


(Something that) sets the whole world on it's ear

by Lightlylightly



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:51:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightlylightly/pseuds/Lightlylightly
Summary: Bea takes her six-year-old daughter out for a holiday treat.





	1. Stop and stare

**Author's Note:**

> New year, new fic. I have no idea where this came from. Probably an act of rebellious procrastination against finishing my other one...

It's far too damn early to be awake. Let alone as awake as Debbie is.

But despite the fact that there isn't enough coffee in the world to be up at this god-forsaken time, Bea finds herself smiling as she listens to Debbie's excited prattle. 

It's nice to hear.

She's grateful, too, that Harry is at home, too busy sleeping off last night to engage his daughter's whims. 

Debbie's been quiet lately, more serious. At mealtimes she's less ready to open her mouth. And she's wetting the bed again.

There's no discernible reason why Deb should be upset. Unless she knows. Has heard. Has seen the marks under the carefully painted-on makeup.

But no, no. It's always too late. She's always fast asleep. It's fine. She doesn't know. 

She doesn't. 

Bea looks back at her daughter and smiles. She may be little miss solemn lately but she's happy as anything right now, bouncing in her car seat and chattering excitedly, her joyful exclamations breaking into Bea's early morning stupor and making her think that no matter how cold it is, no matter how weary and sore she is with every single step - it's worth it. For Debbie.

She puts the car in park, shouldering the backpack with a grunt she thinks she successfully hides in a yawn. By the time she's made it around to Debbie's side of the car the little girl is already struggling unsuccessfully to shake off her car seat restraints. Pushing the release button, Bea helps her daughter out of the car, taking the small, gloved hand in hers. 

They wander down a dock, lousy with boats. The shimmer of the water and seeing the way the boats ooze against it makes Bea feels a certain trepidation about today's adventure.

Debbie, who has gasped and danced at the sight of the boats lined up en masse, has no such reservation.. Between squawks of delight, she's chattering away about.... something boat-related? Bea shakes her sleep-addled head, doing her best to tune back into her daughter.

"And we did learn that the back bit is the stern." She continues. "But not like Mrs Davies at school."

Bea blinks, confused. "Sorry sweetheart. You've lost me. What about boats and Mrs Davies?"

Debbie bites down on her lip, looking a bit puzzled.

"When I was nearly brand new to school you said my teacher was stern. And I asked what stern means. And you did say it was like to be serious and not smile."

"But-" she continues, tugging at Bea's hand to draw her to a stop "Mr Jackson did say it was the back of a boat too and so did the books." she grins up at Bea, her eyes wide and interested. "It's silly, mumma." She says. 

Bea stares at the wide grin and excited, flushed cheeks and smiles. "Words are like that - one word can mean lots of things." She says. "Now come on, let's go get our sea legs!"

Debbie giggles, pulling her mother forwards with both hands. It's unusually cold for summer, an icy edge to the early morning turning their breaths into smoke-like strands as Bea follows the signposts to the main building. There's a fishy smell to the air that makes her feel slightly ill. It seems to have the opposite effect on Debbie, who breathes it in excitedly. 

"It smells like the sea, Mumma!" she says joyfully. 

 

Bea smiles faintly, both loving her daughter's enthusiasm and wishing to the very depths of her curdling stomach that it didn't smell quite so much like the sea. She's relieved when she finds the main office, pushing open the door as Debbie asks "so what boat are we boating on, mumma? Did you find out?"

"Find out what?" Says a warm voice. 

Bea looks up, into blue eyes. Blue is a cold colour, but somehow those eyes can only be described as… warm? Bea drops Debbie's hand briefly to wipe a suddenly-damp brow, somehow unable to look away.

Debbie interrupts Bea's awkwardness to make things all the more awkward.

"Mumma, why are you staring at the lady? Why is the lady staring at you too? Is she your friend?"

Caught, Bea flushes beet-red from head to foot, her head bobbing downward so that her hair flops forward over her face. Her heart thumps insistently against her ribcage and she's aware that despite the cold she's now glazed with an unattractive layer of sweat.

The blue-eyed women comes out from behind the desk and kneels in front of Debbie.

"Hi kid. Sorry. Your mum has pretty eyes. I was taking them in." Bea twitches with shock at the women's words. 

"She does. " Agrees Debbie with the pure, unaffected certainty that only a six year old is capable of. " yours are pretty too - like a fairytale princess."

The women winks up at Bea, and Bea finds herself feeling breathless and panicked. She draws breath too loudly, heat swooping through her in an consuming, unfamiliar way. 

"Your daughter has excellent taste and is my new favourite person." The blue-eyes women declares, her voice warm and amused as she stands to smile at Bea. Her face is a perfect, perfect picture. The air seems filled with her, charged in a strange, enchanting way.

Bea draws breath, her lower belly a tangled mess of electricity. She recognises nothing in these weird reactions; can't figure out why she's suddenly become the extra specially awkward version of herself just in time to make a bad impression in front of a stranger.

It's that the women is beautiful. That's it. It's just the artist in her that lovingly covets each and every feature on her face. That's why she's studying her. It must be. The attractive, rose flush spread across the slant of her cheekbones, the long, wild, blonde hair. The beautifully-shaped lips, full and pink. She watches, fascinated, as a pink tongue licks them. 

Oh god. She's staring. Gaping, even. And she can see in the women's face that she's noticed.  
Hurriedly, face aflame, Bea lowers her eyes, sick with anxiety about how horrifically awkward she is. How abundantly she bombs out when confronted with the normal conversational things that everyone else seems to perform effortlessly. 

When she looks up to try to apologise. - she's shocked by the friendly smile on the women's face.

 

"Did you want me to look something up? I've got a search engine loaded on my browser.

Debbie starts chattering away, giving an extended, long-winded and (to Bea's ears at least, completely incomprehensible) explanation about her not knowing which boat they're taking today. Bea stares, colours. recovers, forgets, and stares again. As the women in front of them looks intently between Bea and Debbie.

She smiles a lot. A lot. It's odd. So very odd.

And... nice.

About three minutes into Debbie's explanation, Allie must figure out what on earth she is talking about.

"You want to know what boat?" She asks. "I'll need your names for that " she continues looking expectantly at Bea, who wants desperately to say something and look like a human being as opposed to the awkward mannequin she's currently impersonating but somehow can't say a single word.

Idiot. Wordless idiot.

Debbie (unwittingly) is Bea's rescuer.

"Yup. I'm Debbie that this is my mumma. You don't call her that though."

The women smiles. "I'm Allie Novak." She says, shaking hands with Debbie. "I'm one of the skippers." She continues, reaching out her hand to Bea, who stares at it, paralysed before reaching out to shake hands an awkward five seconds too late. 

Her hand is warm and smooth in Bea's, her grasp reminding Bea oddly of a hug. Somehow it stay with her long after they've released hands.

The women (Allie), winks at Bea expectantly, and something about it makes Bea turn seven shades of beetroot. "So what do I call you?"

"Bea." She tells her feet."Bea Smith. She meets Allie's blue eyes, and her heart comes vibrantly alive yammering wildly in her chest.

"We booked." Bea adds awkwardly. And internally cringes. Of course they booked. This place requires bookings. God, she has the social skills of a two-year-oldl. 

Allie smiles warmly. "Bea." She repeats, and it sounds silken and lovely from her lips. Not at all who Bea is, but maybe who she wishes she was.

She types in their names, squinting at the computer, and immediately morphing from gorgeous to adorable. Bea is startled by the smile that spreads across her own lips.

"You're on Wonder. With me." She says, her eyes, as they meet Bea's are that same, shocking blue.

"Oh." Says Bea. She finds herself staring at Allie. Again. Say something, she tells herself in frustration. But no words come. Eventually, Allie speaks.

"Have either of you sailed before?" She asks.

Bea shakes her head for them both. Because apparently forming words like a normal person is beyond her, 

"I know the names of all the boat things though." Debbie says, in a voice. The stern and the bow and the heliot and stuff."

Bea smiles, running a gentle hand over Debbie's curls "This one has been learning about them lately." She says, her daughter's easy countenance calming her. "And we've run out of library books on boats. So I said she could come here. As a holiday treat."

Allie smiles at Debbie. "Good taste, kiddo." She says, her eyes returning to Bea's. "You're lucky. Because it's the holidays you're my only sailors today. You'll get the whole experience."

Debbie looks beyond excited, so Bea does her best to smile, trying to ignore the gnawing sick feeling in her stomach. She smiles at Allie instead, in what she hopes is a friendly, normal way,  
It's like staring at the sun. And she finds herself looking away in embarrassment far too quickly. 

Allie's hand falls to her shoulder and she twitches a little at the unexpected contact on her bruised shoulder.

"You two ready to hit the waves?" Allie asks

Bea smiles weakly, a pitiful display next to her daughter's rambunctious excitement.

"Let's go." She says, her arm feeling strange and prickly where Allie’s hand touched it.


	2. The day the sky fell down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea, Debbie and Allie go sailing. Bea feels sick, Debbie feels full of questions, Allie's a charmer. Then something happens to put an exclamation mark on the trip.
> 
> Probably not what you think.

The sun in her eyes is jarring, and Bea curses herself for leaving her sunglasses sitting uselessly on the dashboard in her car. She wipes at her eyes, trying her best to ignore the churning feeling in her stomach.

She will not be sick. This is Debbie's day to soak in all things sailing and she will not be the one to pull the plug on one of the few treats she can afford for her daughter. 

Trying to ignore the turbulence in her stomach, Bea listens instead to Allie Novak's warm voice patiently explain every rope she pulls, every knot she makes, and every tool she uses. 

Bea finds herself staring again, and she can't explain why her eyes keep getting drawn toward Allie. She's seen pretty, used to sketch pretty, and it's never really drawn her in before.

But there's something about the slope of Allie's nose; the electric blue of her eyes. The elegant inversion of her cheekbones.

Even her hair, tied back only minutes ago with an elastic band she'd got from her wrist, is a picture of light and whimsical escape, tendrils echoing the path of the wind like a ridiculous, romantic poem.

Allie reaches for a rope and Bea finds herself shamefully and seconds too late, averting her eyes. Even the blonde's bare wrist is beautiful. Tanned and narrow, the faint impression of her hairband still making an indent in her skin. Bea (who resolutely used to draw and no longer wastes her time on it) suddenly aches to sketch again. To capture the delicate wrist, the long-stemmed fingers. 

It's the heat, she thinks, contrarily shivering. Or....It's the cold. It must be. That or she got hit too hard on the head.

One of the times. 

She twitches,uncomfortably aware that It really could be that. 

Bea's thoughts are interrupted by her overzealous six-year-old, who plops herself down on her mother' lap and pokes the nearest part of Bea (her chest) to get her attention. 

"Mumma! Did you see me tie the knot? Did you?" 

Bea smiles at her daughter. Debbie's dark eyes are shining and the knot she points to is indeed very.... thorough. 

Maybe too thorough. She hopes it won't need untying anytime soon.

"It's gorgeous work Debbie." Says Allie, her voice kind. Bea sends her a grateful smile and her heart accelerates warmly in her chest at Allie's answering wink. 

Unable to respond, She flushes instead and smiles shyly down at her hands. 

She finds herself watching Allie as she leans over to crank the motor, the way her waist peters into her hips and the irresistible curve of her rounded backside sends warm prickles dancing through Bea.

She averts her eyes again, her mouth dry and heart thudding horrifically loudly. Oh god. Who is she? What the fuck is she doing? Thank fuck Harry isn't here to see this.

She resolves to stop.

But she can't help but look up again, watching Allie pulling the string once, twice, three times before it settles into a steady purr. Allie helps Debbie to undo the rope-end that attaches the boat to the dock and then throws it easily back onto the jetty. As the boat begins to pull away, Allie gets Debbie to come to the front of the boat and 'help' her steer. It seems to involve a lot of redirecting on Allie's part, but Debbie's face as radiant with joy and avid concentration. It makes Bea feel both very happy and very sad to see the near-stranger's kindness toward her little girl.

The purr of the motor is rather loud compared to the earlier silence, but it does make the boat move quickly away. Within one minute they've left the dock and are churning smoothly through the open water.

For as far as Bea can see, there's just water. It's daunting. 

Not unlike Allie's eyes.

Allie turns gracefully away to shoulder a length of rope, before turning to face them. She smiles widely at Bea and Bea gulps, wondering with horror if she's about to be sick. 

Allie pulls at the string to turn off the motor and suddenly it's just water lapping quietly at the sides of the boat and the sound of Debbie asking Allie every question under the sun.

The gentle sway of the water is making Bea feel strange. Or maybe it's Allie. Beautiful Allie who she needs to stop looking at.

Oh god. She's doing it again. How horrifically awkward.

Bile rises in Bea's throat and she tries all manners of distraction to stop the horrible, sick feeling. Breathing deeply, she listens as Allie guides her daughter through hoisting the sail. she can tell that Debbie's 'help' ensures that it isn't a seamless process but marvels at Allie's patience with her. The way she lets Debbie do things in her own time, almost ignoring the way the sail flaps wildly in favour of having Debbie feel involved in the process of hoisting it. The sail stills eventually, the wind catching it at the perfect angle.

Bea breathes deeply, willing the sick feeling to leave her. She will not be sick. She will not.

"Mumma. Can we take picture?" Says Debbie, poking Bea in the ribs. Bea tries to hide the gasp of pain. But when she looks up her it's into Allie's worried blue eyes and Debbie's worried brown ones.

She looks away, her eyes blurry with stupid tears. God does she hurt. And then she remembers that the camera which she promised Debbie they'd bring sits uselessly by the door at home.

Gulping back the acidic bile in her throat and trying desperately not to cry, Bea looks at her daughter and wills the appearance of a smile onto her face. She reaches out to smooth back the curls from Debbie's face.

"I'm so sorry bub. Mumma's still waking up and forgot to take the camera. She points to the sea with faintly shaking hands. "But you can use your eyes and draw a picture later?" 

Debbie nods, her face a picture of wonder that makes Bea forget everything briefly and just smile. Her daughter is riveted. "It's so big mumma." She says. "Biggerer than the sky."

"Bigger." Says Bea absently, her eyes fixed on Debbie. Then a clicking sound next to them makes her jump, her heart ratcheting wildly in her chest. 

Allie is taking a photo of them.

"Do you have email?" She asks, lowering the camera so her blue eyes blaze into Bea's.

Bea blinks at her, wordlessly. Her heart is still beating wildly in her chest and she's sweating, despite the cold. Why can't she say something. Anything? 

"As you can tell, since you just busted me photographing you, I'm happy to take some pictures." Allie continues.

"Thanks! You're the nicest girl I ever met." Says Debbie, and Bea wonders at what point in this conversation her daughter's social skills eclipsed her own.

She suspects early on.

"Yeah, thanks Allie." She adds. But the words sound strange. Cracked at the edges. 

"Mumma. You sound weird," says Debbie.

Bea's stomach drops. Like she doesn't look like enough of a prat. "Sorry sweetheart, I feel a little sick. I'm fine though." She adds quickly. She will not ruin this for Debbie. 

Allie's blue eyes are immediately concerned. And then she's digging in her pocket and retrieving some things that look like blue hair ties.

"I'm sorry, I usually give these to all the newbies but..." she shrugs, averting her eyes and Bea is surprised to see her cheeks turn pink. "Well, I got side-tracked" she says.

"What are they?" Asks Debbie,

"They're called sea bands." Says Allie. "I don't know why they work - but they do. They stop sea sickness."

"Thanks." Says Bea, oddly proud of herself for getting a word out. She takes the bands from Allie's warm hand and stares at them, feeling stupid. "Um, what do I do with them?"

Allie's hands take them back from Bea, and then she looks at Bea, proffering her hand.

Bea stares at it uncertainly for a few seconds before she puts her hand into Allie's warm one. A strange, lovely feeling steals over her, like fever without the sickness. Allie immediately slides the band over Bea's wrist so it rests over her pulse. She repeats the process on Bea's other hand.

Allie's hands are incredibly soft and warm, her touch disarmingly gentle. It's almost too much and Bea feels her eyes filling with stupid, pointless tears. She lets her hair fall over her eyes and waits to recover herself. 

Luckily Debbie is still chatty as anything, covering the silence with endless questions. She listens to Debbie's questions and Allie's answers until she feels calm again.  
Quietly, she wipes her eyes.

"So what do you do, Bea? Aside from mothering the lovely Debbie, I mean." Allie asks.

Bea blinks, trying to remember what it is that she actually does. 

"Hairdresser." She says eventually. "You? I mean, not that this isn't a job. Just is this all that you- I mean-" 

Allie rests a hand on top of Bea's and for a few seconds the world rushes loudly in her ears. "Don't worry Bea. I know what you meant. And yes, I'm studying to be a vet nurse. Only a year in though."

"Do you get to cuddle dogs and kitties?" Debbie asks.

Allie grins. "Highlight of my job." 

"I want a dog." Says Debbie. "But dad says no."

Bea presses a kiss to Debbie's forehead, feeling her eyes fill with tears again. There's so much her daughter deserves that she can't give her. She finds she can't say a word in response. She avoids looking at Allie, even as she can feel Allie's eyes on her.

"Dogs are lots of work." Says Allie finally. "But if it's okay with your mum - and your dad then you're more than welcome to come and visit some animals with me."

Debbie's eyes glow at the prospect. "Can I mumma?" 

Panic thrashes in Bea's stomach at the idea of trying to talk Harry into anything. Especially at the moment. Today took so much out of her. But she can't not try. 

"We'll check with your dad, Deb." She says finally.

Debbie nods, but her young eyes look dishearteningly bleak. Like the can feel the hopelessness that has already bled into her mother's words. 

Bea smiles shyly at Allie. "Thank you for the thought." She says. And it's weird, but so pronounced is her gratitude that the has to fight the impulse to hold Allie's hand in hers. To kiss the slender fingers.

Allie winks at her again and Bea, lost in the blue of her eyes, draws in a noisy breath. Then Allie's hand is on her arm and her smile is wide and impossible to look away from.

No worries, beautiful." Allie says and Bea forgets the world for a second and just smiles.

"I like you." Says Debbie to Allie. And Bea looks up, surprised at her tone.

Debbie's chatty as anything and will talk to anyone and everyone. She gives compliments easily, but there's something in her tone that's unusual. Trusting. 

Allie seems to understand that the words aren't everyday things. Because she leans over and runs a hand through across Debbie's curly mop. "Thanks, I like ya too, kiddo."

"You're really nice to my mumma." Says Debbie. 

Allie winks at Bea and something warm coils in Bea's stomach at the sight of it. 

Harry. She reminds herself. Harry. Your husband. Who will knock the shit out of you if he gets a hint of this strange... thing.

"Not hard to be nice to your mumma, kiddo. She's lovely." Says Allie. And then Allie's eyes lock with hers and Bea finds that looking away, when she finally does it, sort of hurts. Her stomach is killing her, too.

Allie holds up her camera. "More photos? She asks and Bea nods, anxious for distraction. She quickly checks the zipper of her hooded sweatshirt to confirm that it is all the way up then pulls at her sleeves so they half obscure her fingers. Then Debbie clambers into her lap and with minimal wincing on her part, they take some pictures.

She thanks Allie in the stumbling, stammering manner in which she seems to do everything around her. Allie winks at her again and warmth rushes through her once more, sudden and confusing.

"No worries, beautiful." Says Allie, again calling Bea a name which doesn't make sense. She isn't beautiful. With her husky voice and aversion to sex, she's just barely a woman.

"Why you did say my mumma's beautiful all the time?" Debbie wonders aloud. "I mean she is, but daddy never says so."

Allie winks at Bea again, and Bea finds herself grinning foolishly at her knees.

"Same reason I'd call you that." She says, her face soft and open. "It's just how her face is. Yours too. I reckon your dad is just used to it, so he doesn't notice it anymore. But it doesn't change the fact that she is."

Bea's can feel herself turning red from head to foot and suppressing the outright bizarre urge to hug Allie. Despite the sea bands, her stomach still churns endlessly. An echo of the sea around it.

They turn the sail twice, and because it involves lots of movement, it leaves Bea feeling rather drained and ill. Allie calls turning the sail tacking and Debbie calls 'attacking' which makes Allie wink at Bea anew. It's the nicest and most confusing thing, the way it sparks through Bea and makes her feel alive.

Eventually, they head back to dock. And Bea, who has spent the whole experience feeling a minute away from throwing up, is surprised by how disheartened she feels about leaving the boat.

She shakes her head too vigorously as they climb from boat to dock and it starts to throb in a way that distances her from the situation. The world slows and she wonders if Allie is near her again. If that explains the lightness in her head, the pins and needles tickling the back of her neck. Her daughter's smile and the particular lilt of Allie's voice as she called Bea beautiful float around her and she feels herself smile into the darkness because It's nice, so nice, but it doesn't feel quite...

Real?

And suddenly Allie is all around her, in such full focus that Bea is confused. She's lying down, and Allie's warm hands are stroking the hair from Bea's face, her beautiful blue eyes worried. Debbie sits next to her, white faced and tearful, anxiously clutching her mothers hand.

"Bea?" Says Allie, her voice pitchy with concern. "Bea? You fainted on the dock. Bumped your head We couldn't wake you, Gave me and Debbie a real fright."

"Sorry." Bea says, but her voice is a mere, hoarse whisper. "Sorry." She tries again.

Her stomach is killing her now, and she cannot help but release the gasp of pain she's hidden all day, clutching at her stomach in sheer agony.

She feels Allie's hands gently lift her shirt. And then Allie's hands frame her face, stroke her cheeks.

"Who did this to you, Bea?" She utters, her face, like Debbie's is now white.

Silent tears run down Bea's cheeks, and she can feel Allie wiping them away with the pads of her fingers, but she cannot and will not say a word. 

"My dad." Says Debbie. 

Then all is quiet, except the sound of Debbie's shocked sobs into Allie's shoulder. Bea is frozen with horror, that Debbie knew, the things she must have seen and heard.

Her tears continue to fall, but faster now, streaming down her face.

And Allie continues to wipe them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This only took me three decades to update... apologies for that!
> 
> Seriously though, I hope it was worth the wait. This is going to be a slow burn comparative to my last story (which incidentally is still a work in progress... sorry! Getting there!)
> 
> Please, please let me know what you think. It keeps me writing.


	3. The wrong kind of place (to be thinking of you).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea goes to hospital. And stuff. And things.... can you tell summary-writing is not one of my gifts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Long time, no write. The world has so much happening in it that breaks my heart at present that I’ve been a bit sidetracked. This wasn’t the scene that I intended to write, but it kind of wrote itself and after fiercely trying to write the scene I planned I ended up just doing this because I couldn’t seem to do otherwise. Chapter title is from 9 Crimes by Damien Rice. Please let me know what you think. It means so much.

Bea opens her eyes because Debbie sounds frantic. She watches their lips move, their anxious white faces, feels the faint echo of pain in her head, the violent throbbing ache in her stomach. 

Flashing lights, Debbie’s anxious cries, Allie’s soft, soothing voice and the too-bright flash of light which Allie’s phone gives off as she unlocks her phone, cupping it between chin and shoulder as she speaks into it. She’s ghostly white, her face pinched and worried. But it’s still so hard not to look at her.

And then Bea’s eyes are forced shut as the pain thunders through her again. It’s too much - she can’t help but gasp and cry, her body folding in half in agony. She wants to stand up. Faint again. Because it’s been a long time since she didn’t hurt and those moments away from it all - with Allie’s smooth, lovely voice calling her beautiful- were a respite. She bites her lip, hard. And somehow that helps ease the pain.

When Bea opens her eyes again, and they lock with Allie’s beautiful blue ones. She feels it everywhere. Oh fuck. She thinks. Harry. He’s going to know I like her. Oh God, do I like her. 

She feels Allie’s warm fingers squeeze at her hand. Feels Debbie cuddle into her shoulder. And the heavenly relief of a faint breeze on her sweaty brow. She wants to hug Debbie, to squeeze Allie’s hand back.

She wants to watch their fingers - hers and Allie’s - curl together. But her eyes are heavy, her mind hazy. And the dark descends again.

“Bea. Bea! Can you hear me?” 

There’s an uncomfortable, continuous tapping on her collarbone. Bea reflexively grunts, opening her eyes.

The man who is tapping her collarbone is a stranger in uniform. A paramedic, maybe? He introduces himself, but she hardly hears him, she’s trying to figure out where the hell she is.

She’s not on the dock anymore. She’s on a stretcher in confined space. She can’t see her daughter anywhere and Allie must be long gone by now. Panic wakes her faster, and she groans loudly as the pain in her stomach worsens. 

“Debbie?” Her voice is slurred. But she gets the word out. She feel only her thumping heart and her throbbing belly. She is pain. That’s all she is, now. 

They put something over her face and try to make her breathe it in but she pushes it aside. They were near water. Debbie might still be there.

“My baby.” She says, “where is my little girl?” She hisses in agony at the way her stomach contracts. At the pain of breathing and talking. She feels desperate to communicate, but when she does it’s hoplessly slurred. “Where-issshe?” 

The paramedic tries to push the mask back over her face but she shoves it off, groaning as the pain reverberates with her every movement. She swats angrily at the hand trying to push the mask back into her face, ignoring whatever the hell he’s trying to say to her. She needs to check her daughter is safe so they can just fuck off if they think-

Allie’s face appears suddenly, and relief floods Bea. “She’s with me.” She says gently “I’ll look after her. Now let them treat the pain, Bea. breathe it in.” She gently replaces the mask, her fingers stroking at the sides of Bea’s face.

Debbie is safe. Allie is strangely still here. So Bea finally does what she’s told, and breathes in deeply. 

It works quickly, whatever it is. The world slows down, tingles echoing timelessly throughout her head. She can feel her legs twitch a little at the strange sensation. At the hazy slowness. She smiles at Allie. 

“Breathe it in.” Allie’s full lips say. “Keep breathing it in.”

“I am breathing you in.” She murmurs, staring at Allie’s lovely face, one hand coming to touch Allie’s cheek, which pinkens charmingly. “You’re fun on gas, Bea Smith.” Allie says. “I’m going over to Debbie. She says. “Keep breathing it in.”

The paramedic removes an ice pack from her head and something compresses her upper arm repeatedly.

“She has a temp, BP’s still worryingly low.” Says the paramedic to his colleague. “Swelling on the head has gone down nicely but we need to scan her abdomen. We’ll have to take her in.”

“Yeah, I know.” Allie’s disembodied voice interrupts, sounding annoyed. She’s going to leave, thinks Bea. I’ve caused this fuckup and now...

Allie reappears in Bea’s eyeline like a vision. “Bea.” She says gently, leaning down to swing Debbie onto her hip as if she knows Bea’s thoughts. “They say I’m not allowed to ride with you because of Debbie. Can we meet you there?”

Relief makes her head hurt, And Bea finds herself wanting to just hold Allie and cry. It’s been a hard year, a hard life. Debbie deserves so much better than her. Through the haze Bea looks at her only daughter. She looks scared, all pie-plate eyes and pinched lips. But she has her hands wrapped around Allie’s neck. She’ll be safe with Allie. Bea pulls the mask off her lips to answer.

“Yeah. Stay with Allie, baby.” She says, smiling through through the anxious fog for her daughter’s benefit before looking at Allie again.

.Lovely Allie who made her daughter’s day. And then helped without question when Bea fucked it all up. She tries to summon some words. To help Debbie. To keep them safe.

“Please can’ya find my phone. Call Franky. Don’ansa if Harry calls.”

She looks directly at her daughter, taking in her tear streaked cheeks. “Love you ta’ the moon and back, Debbie.” She says. Debbie’s smile is tremulous, her mouth gaping wordlessly once the smile melts away. 

And then Debbie and Allie are gone, and the paramedic is strapping himself in. He puts the mask back over Bea’s face as they set off and she breathes in the painkiller desperately, wanting to forget Debbie’s tremulous face as she left. The smile she tried to hold in place for her flawed mother.

—-

When Bea wakes up, it’s to Allie’s blue eyes staring intently at her, as Debbie lies asleep in the younger blonde’s lap. 

“Hi.” Says Bea, the word sounds old and cracked when it issues from her dry mouth.

Alllie’s hand comes out to clasp at Bea’s one and Bea smiles into the fabric of her hospital gown.

“Hey Bea.” Allie’s thumb strokes continuously at Bea’s hand as she talks. “We’re waiting on tests now. To find out how your stomach is. Blood pressure is low, and you have a low-grade fever that they can’t bring down. So they need to sort that.”

“I fed Debbie.” She continues. “Macca’s. Hope that’s okay. She’s a sucker for a Happy Meal toy.” She continues, gesturing to the wind-up Hamburglar that sits next to Bea’s phone on the bedside table.

“Course. I can pay you back and - Well- thank you doesn’t seem like a big enough word.” Says Bea, her eyes fixed on the Hamburglar toy, too embarrassed to meet Allie’s gaze. 

she Allie doesn’t answer at first. But her warm fingers grasp Bea’s hand, her thumb stroking patterns onto her skin.

It’s the weirdest, nicest feeling. 

“It’s fine. And don’t you dare pay me back. She’s fun, your kid.” Says Allie. “Really. I’m just glad you’re okay. You gave us a fright.”

“I’m so sorry.” Says Bea, feeling knotted with guilt. “You-“

Allie’s shakes her head. “It’s fine, Bea. I wasn’t complaining. I have a messy bedroom waiting for me at home. Really, you saved me.”

And suddenly her fingers stop their stroking and Bea waits, waits, waits,

“Honestly? I’m just so glad you’re okay.” Continues Allie, and Bea is shocked to see tears in her eyes. She squeezes Allie’s hand back, stroking the ridges of her knuckles.

“You don’t need to cry for me, Allie.” She says softly. 

“Tough, I’m going to.” Says Allie, sounding perplexingly both fierce and kind.

“Franky isn’t answering.” Allie continues. “So I left her about a million voicemails. I’m sure she’ll call back soon.” 

“Harry has called.” She continues, her hand gripping Bea’s as if the news pains her. 

“I didn’t answer obviously.”

“Thank you.” Says Bea. “Only...” she chews on her lip nervously, “only more than thank you. I don’t know why you helped me.”

“I don’t know why I wouldn’t.” Says Allie seriously, and then she’s holding both of Bea’s hands in hers.

It feels - well - it feels really fucking nice. Like someone else’s life. Someone else’s loving, beautiful girlfriend. 

God. Harry will end her for this. But she won’t let go.

The doctor comes back in and his solemn face makes her wonder if Harry has already ended her. If she’s dying.

“Ms Smith. You’re going to need surgery for internal bleeding”

She listens detachedly as Allie asks all the correct questions as to why she needs surgery. Blood in her urine. Significant abdominal bruising. The fever that won’t go away. Urgent surgery, he says. 

He brandishes a form, tells her she needs to sign it immediately. She does. 

She watches Allie’s eyes fill with tears This stranger who hardly knows her but treats her with utter tenderness. Cries for her. 

She hands the pen back to the doctor and he goes to find the anaesthesiologist. 

A nurse comes in to ask when she last ate, to check her drip, to advise her that her surgery will be happening within minutes. 

She looks at her daughter, her whole world, sleeping peacefully on Allie’s lap. She looks at Allie, whose tears are tracking silently down her face, mindful of the sleeping child in her lap. They stare at each other, crying quietly together.

Then Bea’s phone starts to vibrate loudly on the bedside table.


	4. There's a radiant darkness upon us (But I don't want you to worry).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky phones and arrives.... as many of you predicted. Others follow. Allie remains there because where the hell else would she be right now? The waiting commences...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for the delay. Life was all hectic and annoying. I actually loved writing this once I found sufficient moments in the day, it just took its sweet time to get the tone right.
> 
> Title is from The National’s “You Were A Kindness” which is now theme song of this fic. More titles will follow from this song because it fits beautifully and I love it 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts. They’re everything.

At the sound of Bea’s phone, Debbie starts awake, blinking rapidly before her eyes settle on her mother. “Mumma?” She says blearily.

“I’m here, Deb.” Says Bea, hissing in agony when she tries to lean forward to hug her daughter.

Allie glances at the vibrating phone, swinging immediately into action. Mouthing the word “Franky” at Bea above Debbie’s head she gently lifts Debbie onto the bed so she’s seated next to her mother but not too closely and kisses her forehead. “Be back, kiddo.” she says, hurrying out with the now-blaring, vibrating phone in her hands.

It takes a second to remember how to unlock it, but she manages to do so before the phone stops bleating.

“Bea? What the fuck happened? I just got a message from some chick called Allie saying to call you urgently. Who the fuck is Allie?

Allie’s words pour out of her before she’s really thought them through. “It’s Allie here.” She says finally. “Bea’s hurt. She needs surgery. 

Immediately, Franky’s tone changes. “Shit. Where is she?”

 

Allie sucks in a breath. “We’re at the Royal Melbourne Hospital. Floor 3, room 22B. Do you need directions?” 

“Fuck.” Says Franky. “Nah, I know it. My women’s a Doc. Now who the fuck are you?”

Allie finds her voice is suddenly trembling, that her calm washed away by the harsh question.

“I’m nobody.” She answers shakily, sucking in air.

“I took her and Debbie out on a boat. Stupidly thought she was off colour from sea-sickness. Saw her pass out when we got back. Called an ambulance. Hung out with Debbie.” 

She tried to say something about the bruises and cuts and Harry but the words get stuck on a sob. She can see Bea’s face, even now. Beautiful, but tear-stained and worryingly pale. And those bruises, so dark against the white of Bea’s smooth stomach.

“Please come.” Is all she can get out.

“Already in a taxi. I’m nearby. Maybe three minutes away.”

“Thank you. Really.” Says Allie.

“It’s Bea. Where the fuck else would I be? Debbie okay?”

“Shaken and very cuddly but okay.” Says Allie. “She’s a sweet kid.”

Allie is about to thank Franky again when The other women’s voice echoes down the line once more.

“Allie?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re clearly not fuckin’ nobody.” Says Franky finally.

Absurdly Allie finds herself smiling as the dial tone beeps in her ear. She takes a deep breath, wipes her face and nose vigorously on her sleeve and pastes on a smile. 

“Franky’s on her way.” She says as she re-enters the room.

Bea smiles at her, her eyes widening and a flush relieving her white cheeks of some of their pallor. “Thank you. I... don’t have better words. You’re amazing, Allie.”

Allie shrugs dismissively, but her cheeks turn pink. “Talking about yourself again, Bea.” She says.

“You’re just weird.” Says Bea, her cheeks turning redder. But she’s smiling. Allie walks over to sit next to the bed and grasps Bea’s hand in hers. She doesn’t know quite how to explain that she needs to be here. She can’t and won’t leave.

“Where’d Deb go?” She asks instead.

Bea blinks at her confusedly. “Oh. Toilet.” She says eventually, gesturing. “The nurse took her. It’s a bit of a walk to the non-patient ones.”

Allie nods. “Anaesthesiologist back yet?” She asks.

Bea shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears and Allie mentally curses herself for making Bea cry.

She lets go of Bea’s hands and gets up from the chair. Leaning over so she’s face to face with Bea, Allie carefully wipes away the tears with her thumbs. Brown eyes meet blue and for several, frozen seconds they just stare at one another before Allie breaks eye contact to draw Bea’s upper body gently into a hug, mindful of her wounds. She strokes at Bea’s soft curls with one hand and smooths a hand over her upper back with the other.

She listens to the sound of Bea’s breath catching, and feels the exact, blessed moment when Bea’s upper body slumps into hers. 

It is an utter relief.

Allie feels Bea’s hands hovering uncertainly around her before they come slowly down to stroke at her blonde hair. She feels rather than sees Bea’s rushed exhale and can’t help but inhale deeply. Bea smells like cinnamon, and something sharp, sudden and completely irresistible. And her breaths on Allie’s neck feel immeasurably soothing.

“You smell nice,” Bea hums into her neck. Allie’s silly crush on Bea loves every murmured second of her warm, unconscious and probably medically-fuelled words. 

“It’s that hospital smell. Fuckin’ irresistible.” Says a voice. Bea jumps suddenly backwards, hissing in agony as her forgotten wounds contract.

“Shit, Sorry Bea.” Says Franky, but her eyes dart between Allie and Bea with something like shock as she sizes up Allie.

“So you’re Allie?” She says.

Allie nods. “Guilty.” She confirms, sitting back down and retrieving Bea’s hand from where it clutches anxiously at her blankets. Her fingers unthinkingly stroke at Bea’s knuckles. Seconds later, she feels Bea’s fingers twine with hers.

“We’ll talk about this-“ Franky gestures to their joined hands “later,” she continues. For now I want to know what the fuck happened?

Bea breathes in and out, squeezing at Allie’s hand, her eyes on her lap. “Harry.” She says, her eyes again filling with tears.

Franky sinks to the floor, her face white with shock. And then she’s red faced and furious, seemingly within seconds.

’l’ll fucking put his head on a fucking pole.” She rages.

“Get in line.” Says Allie, Bea and Franky both gape at her. Her voice is quiet, but steely with sincerity. Bea squeezes Allie’s hand, wishing strangely that they were alone.

Franky’s fury suddenly takes a new tack. “What the fuck, Bea? Why didn’t you tell me, Bea? I could have....?”

“-She didn’t want to.” Says Allie firmly. “Hit up the Internet. It’s common. Fuckwits like him are good at manipulation. What matters now is Bea recovering. And her and Debbie getting the hell away from him.”

Franky looks briefly like she wants to clock Allie, and then her face clears and she looks at Allie with something like respect.

“What can I do?” She asks.

The nurse comes back inside with Debbie just then, and Bea meets Franky’s eyes over her little girl’s head.

Franky nods. “Course.” She answers the unspoken question. 

A policeman puts his head around the door. “Bea Smith. Sorry to interrupt. Can I have a word?”

————————  
Bea sits alone, listening to the nurses doing final checks. Intermingled, is the day-to-day chatter about children’s birthdays, the weather. It’s just another day for them.

It isn’t for Bea. By all accounts, she is seconds away from being put under, and Debbie, Allie and Franky are out there somewhere, waiting.

A police officer had been by briefly (apparently Debbie’s confession in front of the medical professionals paired with Bea’s wounds triggered an automatic welfare check) and they’d put in place something called a temporary domestic violence order which would keep Harry away from both her and Debbie, at least for now.

She signed something granting Franky and Bridget the right to care for her daughter so she wouldn’t be fostered. She signed something granting Allie access to her medical stuff because Allie asked her to. She doesn’t know why Allie cares about her but she’s relieved she does.

God, she likes Allie.

She’s nervous. And after three shots and a drip in her arm she feels like a pin cushion. She’s anxious about being cut open. About what Debbie knows. About Harry finding them while she’s out. About dying and leaving her baby behind.

She doesn’t know...

She doesn’t know anything.

And then there’s the fact that from what the surgeon said Franky probably has upward of three hours to scare Allie off.

Hopefully. Whatever they find they can fix it and she’ll be-

Fine?

The anaesthesiologist is just eyes above a mask, but they are blue eyes, like Allie’s, and they are kind. He asks her to start counting back from ten, and memories of her most mattering moments surge forth as she does.

10...

The softness of her new baby daughter’s cheek when they handed her Debbie in the hospital. That absolute love that smoothed through every part of her.

9...

Harry’s hand tightening on her upper arm, adding bruises upon bruises. The sudden kick to the stomach that sent her sprawling to the ground, trying not to cry. 

8...  
The brilliant light in Debbie’s eyes as they rocked on the open waters, and Allie’s soft voice answering question after question, her eyes sudden and confronting and absolutely fucking beautiful.

7...  
Harry’s hands around her neck, her eyes anywhere but his as he rammed himself into her and took what he wanted, sneering “fucking uptight bitch!” When she tried to retreat. The unending pain of the way he breached her and and her suppressed words pulsing through her like blood.

no, no, no...

6...

Sitting in the salon with her friends, laughing at stupid jokes and mainlining bad coffee. Safe in her home away from home. Then an unexpected laugh bought tears of pure pain to her eyes.

5....  
Her little girl

curled up on Allie’s lap. 

Safe with Allie.

Beautiful Allie.

——

Bea slept.

——

Allie sits in the waiting room next to Franky and her girlfriend. Minutes after Franky had arrived a fair-haired older women called Liz had administered hugs to all of them, including Allie. They are eventually joined by quiet women called Maxine and a much, much louder one appropriately named Boomer. Apparently someone named “Dor” is on the way. She’s looking for a sitter.

Allie holds Debbie’s sleeping body in her arms, grateful for the child’s unquestioning trust, for her soft, steady breaths and her warmth. It’s well past hour four but there’s been no news about Bea and she’s worried - they all are.

She knows the group at large is puzzled to learn that her and Bea only met today, especially when confronted by Debbie’s easy trust in Allie. But Franky’s girlfriend Bridget, (a very put-together blonde women who Allie would never have pictured the tattooed, brash Franky going for) looks at her with nothing but warmth. And Franky... Franky clearly... values her?

It’s really odd. It’s rather lovely. But of course these people are lovely. These people are Bea’s people.

Debbie wriggles in her sleep and Allie smooths her hair back, hoping to soothe the sleeping child. Today has been a messy tidal wave of feelings. First it was a mostly impossible fight to stop herself staring at the beautiful, fragile (married, she reminded herself, married) women. And then it was the realisation that beautiful quiet, kind Bea wasn’t just seasick. She was seriously injured. 

By her husband.

And now they’re past hour four and she’s still not out of surgery. 

It’s all there now, inside Allie’s head. Debbie’s admission. The horror on Bea’s white face. And that confusing need to stay here with them forever. Help them to be as happy as they made her.

But fuck. Hour four. 

Hour four!

“Can you tell me about Bea?” She eventually says to the group. They’re all tense and somehow talking about Bea feels better than, well...

Better than everything else.

Five pairs of eyes look up at her and she feels her face reddening. She wonders if they can see her worry. See the ridiculous need she feels to know Bea, to help her, to take care of her.

“All I know is she’s a bloody good mum, doesn’t take compliments too well, blushes adorably, works as a hairdresser, absolutely cherishes her little girl and loves you lot.”

She omits the fact that Bea is married to a violent asshole. But it lingers there in the air like a particularly cheap perfume.

“Sounds like you know her pretty well.” comments Maxine, with a gentle smile. 

“Also she’s bloody stubborn.” Franky adds. “Never fucking asks for help. I’m a fucking lawyer. I could’a helped!” She sniffs loudly and wipes at her eyes. Allie sees her girlfriend’s hand smooth over her knee. It seems to centre her. Because her next words are decisive. “I will help.” She says.

“She’s a fuckin’ good friend.” Says Boomer angrily. As if they’re denying that fact, arguing with her that it isn’t true. Allie watches Maxine’s hand fall to Boomer’s shoulder.

“She draws.” Says Liz. “Well... she used to anyway. She was real good. She stopped around about the time...” she pauses, twisting her hands anxiously “...about the time she met Harry.” She finishes, her voice quiet.

The air is suddenly steeped with unwanted understanding.

“She thinks she’s awkward, but really she’s just smart,” adds Maxine. And Allie smiles at her grateful for the interruption, for the way she effortlessly settled them into a better mindset.

“She really is.” Allie says, then gestures to the child on her lap. No wonder Debbie’s so brilliant.”

They all smile at that. 

But when hour five ticks by with no news it gets harder to smile

And by hour six there aren’t any smiles left.


	5. I’ll do what I can (to be a confident wreck).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea comes to. Plans are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments were honestly the best thing ever. I finished work today and went straight to a coffee shop and somehow this all poured out of me. 
> 
> I hope you like it. Please do let me know. Your comments pull this out of me way faster than any resolve I have.
> 
> Title is from “You Were a Kindness” by The National which is responsible, along with you lot, for this chapter coming together so fast.
> 
> I need to update my other fic next, but I’m hopeful that this will be updated again within a couple of weeks.

The clock ticks and ticks and goddamn ticks and Allie wants to scream because five and a half hours is too long and the more time that runs away....

She can’t finish that thought. So she just hugs Debbie closer.

Doreen arrives and Allie finds herself submitting to more hugs and thanks than she needs or deserves. She just wants what they want - for Bea to be okay.

Doctors come and go from the crowded waiting room, and every time they do conversation dries up. But no one comes to talk to them about Bea. They all try to chat, but it’s more stop than start, and everyone is mostly on pause. Waiting and waiting. 

Even though Allie remembers every feature of Bea’s doctor’s face, (right down to the pimple on his right cheek- what - is he twelve?) anytime she sees any doctor her heart thumps wildly.

They talk about taking Debbie home to sleep, but none of them have the heart to leave. She dozes on Allie’s lap and asks about her mother every time she wakes. 

Allie tells her the doctors are making Bea better and hopes Debbie can’t hear the way her heart pounds. She hopes to God that what she tells Debbie is true. 

Debbie nuzzles into her trustingly and it breaks her heart, but she’s grateful for it too. It comforts her. Because there’s no complexity to her feelings for the little girl - she just loves her. Just wants the best for her.

Allie must have dozed off. But suddenly Franky’s hand is digging into her arm and there’s a doctor in front of them. 

Bea’s Doctor. 

The pleasantries flicker and disappear like smoke. But some words hold fast. 

She’s alive. Those were his words. “It was close, but she’s alive.” After that, time dissolves into words and reactions and everything else is hazy.

Significant internal bleeding.

Ruptured spleen. They tried to save it. Ultimately they couldn’t. They removed it.

Burst appendix. They took that out too.

“She must have been in incredible pain.” Says the Doctor. “She has injuries on top of injuries. The rupture is recent but.... other injuries weren’t.

Even though he’s fucking twelve and far too young to look after Bea his kind blue eyes make Allie like him slightly more.

Other words echo and hurt. 

Extensive bruising of the abdomin

Four broken ribs. 

And then there’s a pause and his eyes veer away from all of them. 

Allie knows, somehow, what he’s about to say.

Evidence of multiple sexual assaults, he says.

Multiple. God, Harry is a monster. Poor beautiful, kind Bea.

The Doctor doesn’t go into detail, his eyes flickering repeatedly to Debbie.

Luckily, through it all, Debbie thankfully sleeps.

He tells them they can’t see Bea yet. She’s sleeping off the anaesthetic, 

He tells them what they already know - that it’ll be a long recovery. 

Recovery, thinks Allie. Recovery. The word feels like hope.

It’s the first nice word she’s heard in ages.

It isn’t alright. Bea isn’t alright, But someday, she might be.

——  
They make plans. 

To take Debbie back to Franky and Bridget’s for a nap. To work around jobs and appointments so someone is always there for Bea and Debbie. 

Allie loves these people for loving Bea. For dropping everything they can for her.

Allie is by far the freest and she’s scheduled in accordingly. Nobody seems to question it even though she just met Bea today. 

Maybe it’s the way Debbie clings to her so trustingly, even in sleep.

She’s grateful nobody pulls her up about why she can drop work like a hot stone. 

Allie isn’t sure quite when it happens but suddenly she’s aware that time has stopped being a series of lurching jolts and returned almost to normal.

—-

When they’re cleared to go and see Bea, Allie wakes up Debbie.

“Debbie, sweetheart. Wake up.”

Debbie shifts and mutters as she comes awake.

“Mumma?” She mutters, lolling against Allie. 

Allie strokes Debbies soft, slightly tangled curls, her heart squeezing at Debbie’s question.

“No Deb. It’s Allie. We can go see mumma soon, though.”

“Did they fix her up real good like you said?” Debbie’s brown eyes look at Allie imploringly. She is aware of the eyes of all Bea’s friends on her as she struggles to find a good answer.

“They did, sweetheart. But it takes time. Like.. growing a flower. So we’ll all look after you while your mumma comes right.”

“So mumma needs sun and water and stuff?” Says Debbie. “I did learn about flowers at school.”

Allie smiles reflexively, stroking Debbie’s cheek. “Water yes. But otherwise just rest mostly.” She says. “Rest is the people version of sun.” She adds inconsequentially aware she’s oversimplifying things. 

Debbie’s thumb finds its way into her mouth as she cuddles back into Allie. “You stay with me too?”

The peanut gallery stares on as Allie answers. “Sometimes me, little one. Want to go see your Mumma now?” 

Debbie nods. “Course. I did want to see her for ages but you all wouldn’t let me.”

Debbie’s words make Allie’s eyes fill with tears. She hugs the little girl against her. “Me too, Deb. I wanted to see her too.” She says, once her voice returns.

Debbie clings to Allie’s side as they walk into Bea’s room, so Allie picks up the little girl and sits her on her hip.

Seeing Bea - just seeing her face again - is a colossal relief. 

She is asleep, a tangle of wires attached to her. Machines beep and whir. Her beautiful face is too pale, washed completely free of colour. But her breathing is comfortingly regular.

Allie can feel Debbie shaking in her arms.

“Mumma?” Her young voice sounds tremulous. 

Blessedly, Bea opens her eyes.

“Debbie.” She says, her rasping voice soothes Allie immeasurably.

It doesn’t have the same affect on Debbie, who immediately bursts into tears. “Mumma why did they poke wires in you? Does it hurt?”

Bea looks wide eyed. “They don’ hurt,” she says, her voice a little slurred.

“The wires give her water and things to make her tummy not hurt.” Allie adds, her hand finding Debbie’s hair and stroking it softly. “They’re good. They help.”

Bea’s brown eyes find Allie’s blue ones and lazer in. Allie is relieved to see her white cheeks taking on some much-needed colour. She finds herself drawn irresistibly to watching Bea; the relief of her open eyes, the tousled curls and the way her free hand twitches on the bed as if she wants to hold something. 

Bea looks surprised and delighted to see her and Allie feels it all the way to her toes.

“Allie? I though’ I dreamed you.”

Allie gapes and for a second she can’t think of a single thing to say. And then she smiles at Bea - Alive, beautiful Bea- and the words just come. 

“Come on Bea. I’d have way better hair if you’d dreamt me.” She teases, running a finger through her knotty hsir until it catches and yanking at it pointedly.

“I don’ know you would. Your hair’s pretty You’re really pretty.” Says Bea.

Allie feels her face flaming. Bea with no filter is absolutely adorable.

Debbie starts shifting in Bea’s arms. “Want to hug mumma.” She says.

Allie’s tilts her head at Bea in unspoken query and Bea nods.

Carefully Allie shifts Debbie onto her other hip, sitting her next to Bea on the bed. “Have to be gentle, Deb. Just rest your head on her arm. And give her arm very soft cuddles.” She says.

Debbie nods, her hands coming gingerly around her mother’s arm. “Love you, mumma” she says. Tears flow down Bea’s cheeks as she says, “Love you to the moon and back, Deb.” Her voice is low and raspy and Allie can tell she’s trying to hide that she’s crying. She watches Bea compose herself enough to say “You doing okay, Deb?”

Debbie nods, lolling reflexively against her mother so that Bea twitches in pain. Allie bites the inside of her mouth to stop herself telling Debbie to move back, or to move the little girl away herself. Debbie’s tired and the visit won’t be for long. And she needs this contact - needs her mum.

“I’m okay mumma.” Says Debbie. “All our friends is here and Allie gave me lots of cuddles.” 

Bea’s eyes meet Allie’s over her head and she’s still crying, but she’s smiling too. “Good. Thas’ good.” She says. 

When Debbie falls asleep, Allie takes her gently back into her arms to give Bea some respite and sits on the chair next to the bed.

“How are you really.” She asks.

“I’m.... glad to be alive.” Says Bea softly. “And....it’s really hard to sound normal in front of her and not scare her because whatever they gave me is...” she shrugs, twinging when one of her wounds pull. “It’s pretty strong.” She says finally.

“You sounded fine. She felt comforted. You did well.” Says Allie, reaching over to take Bea’s free hand in hers. “Whatever you say is fine. It’s just so good to see you awake.” She continues.

“It’s so good to see you.” Bea says, and her fingers squeeze at Allie’s hand before stroking the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. They trickle upwards so they’re sitting just on the inside of Allie’s elbow and Allie thinks her heart has never beat so fast.

Bea falls asleep with her hand holding tight to Allie’s arm. 

When Franky comes in to take Debbie, her eyebrows shoot into her hairline when she sees Bea’s hand on Allie but she doesn’t comment. She lifts the slumbering Debbie into her arms and places a hand on Allie’s shoulder.

“Thanks Allie. I’ll text you about Debbie’s visit tomorrow morning. You sure you’re okay to stay?”

Allie just nods, unsure to explain that she can’t leave. Won’t leave. May never leave again.

“Not working today (that part is true) she says. “And I have time off work next week.” She adds.

Well, she will have. Once she’s called them. Told them.

Everyone comes in to make their farewells and Bea wakes briefly to say goodbye, to thank them, to hug Debbie and hug them all in the small way that she can.

And then they’re all gone it’s just Allie and Bea. 

Allie enjoys the quiet relief of it just being them, Bea’s soft breaths, her fluttering eyes and the irresistible way Bea reaches for her when she awakes.

She falls asleep at Bea’s bedside, awakening with a sharp jolt to the smell of days-old booze and the sound of yelling.

A man staggers forward, half-leaning on the door, his eyes bleary and bloodshot, his face reddened and angry.

“Who the fuck are you?”


	6. Raise your hopeful voice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie confronts Harry’s nose. Bea and Allie talk. Franky and Allie talk. Basically it was hard getting them to shut up in this chapter, so I stopped trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from “Falling Slowly” from the musical Once.
> 
> My work is currently going through a very stressful review process so instead of focusing on that I stayed up half last night writing this.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! It really helps me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

In the time it takes for Harry to lean laboriously on the side of the door, Allie squeezes Bea’s hand, hits the emergency call button and surges to her feet, stepping protectively in front of Bea’s bed.

“Who the fuck are you?” She counters, her voice hard and unfamiliar. But Bea, watching Allie in profile as she strides purposefully toward Harry can tell instantly that Allie she knows exactly who stands in front of her. 

Something about her stance. About the steel in her voice as she questioned him.

Harry looks furious, staggering toward Allie. Bea freezes in place when confronted with him again, recoiling as the familiar smell of stale body odour and days-old beer pervades the room.

She wants to shield Allie but she can’t even move, tied as she is to pain and wires. 

And there’s the same hopeless feeling pervading her that always did with Harry. Dread, and the knowledge that the least-worst thing she could do would be hurting herself a heck of a lot so Allie doesn’t get tangled up in the mess of her life.

“Allie!” She says urgently. “Allie - please.”

But Allie stands solidly is in front of her. And there’s nothing Bea can do. 

Harry sneers at Allie. “I’m Bea’s husband you nosy bitch. “ Fuck off and mind your own business before I deck you one.”

Allie regards him silently for a minute. Then she turns half-away from him as if asceding to his order.

Bea must blink just as Allie’s fist swings out and when she refocuses on the situation a half-second later Harry is staggering back, a hand covering his bloodied nose. 

Just then the nurse comes back in, her eyes widening at the scene.

“He threatened me physically.” Allie snarls, not looking in the least bit sorry. 

She gestures back to Bea.

“He’s already nearly killed her and he was threatening to bash me too.”

She eyes him with contempt. “Plus he’s violating a Domestic Violence Order right now.”

Bea is agog, unable to take her eyes off Allie. There’s something so loyal about her. The way she automatically stepped in front of Bea. Her thoughtless bravery. And Bea feels something warm and powerful shimmer through her, opening her mouth and giving her the courage to add to Allie’s words. 

“he’s drunk as well.” She adds, shocked and delighted that she managed to speak up. 

Allie’s hand comes to her shoulder, warm and certain as she turns to face the nurse.

“Maybe now the police will take our request for security seriously?” Allie bites out. And Bea is a little astonished by the anger in her. 

In a matter of minutes security comes in and removes Harry. And Allie is forceful about demanding a Police report of what has happened. Bea stares at Allie as she orders about security, nurses and the Poluce Officer they cobbled up from somewhere.

That Allie cares so much confuses her. 

When the crowd finally leaves She finds herself reaching for Allie for the umpteenth time that day, her abdomen complaining as she moves slightly forward, clasping Allie’s warm hand between her two colder ones.

“Allie?” She says. “Allie, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

Allie calms so quickly at Bea’s gentility that it makes Bea’s head spin. She squeezes Bea’s hand in her own, retaking her seat next to The older redhead.

“Sorry. I hope that didn’t scare you.”

“The opposite.” Says Bea, doing her best to ignore the squeezing pain that’s beginning to return to her. “It was impressive. You’re impressive.” She adds. “You’ve got a mean right hook.”

Allie winks at her, and warmth tickles through Bea in a hazy flurry.

“Misspent youth.” She says lightly.

“Thank you.” Says Bea, meeting Allie’s eyes with some difficulty. Staring at the sun might shock her less, affect her less.

She ducks a little when Allie’s warming gaze becomes too much, hissing in agony at the movement a second too late.

Shit.

Allie’s eyes flick hurriedly to the bags which hang from the stand next to Bea’s bed and smacks her forehead.

She scoots forward in her chair, so she’s sitting closer to Bea’s bed, her hand falling to Bea’s hair and stroking softly.

“I’ve pressed the call button.” She says. “Sorry, Bea. Your morphine drip has run out. You’re just on saline now”

“It’s okay, I can deal with a little pain.” Says Bea, twitching uncomfortably even as she says the words.

Allie’s face is soft and beautiful, but completely disbelieving. “Bea, it’s not okay. You’re in pain. I’m so sorry.”

Bea shakes her head dismissively, being careful to keep her lower half unmoving. 

“It’s okay. I asked them to lessen my dose. It makes me act weird.”

“So what? Weird you is awesome.” Says Allie.

Bea blinks in surprise. She looks at Allie curiously. enough for her cheeks to flame. “You... don’t mind?” She says, her forehead knitting adorably. “I’m pretty dopey on the morphine.”

“Nah, you’re cute as hell.” Says Allie before she can rethink the words.

Bea’s eyes cannot meet Allie’s. So she smiles down at her lap until the nurse returns to run checks and top up her pain medication.

She drifts quickly into sleep once it has been administered, Allie’s warm hand mbetween her colder ones.

—-

As soon as Bea is sound asleep again, Allie calls Franky again.

“Harry’s been by,” she says, in lieu of greeting her.

Franky’s voice crackles angrily on the other end of the line.

“Fuck. I warned the cops. Wish I’d been there to give him the bash! Are you and Bea okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I broke the fucker’s nose.” Says Allie dismissively. “But about security....”

She’s interrupted by a long, low whistle down the line.

“Jesus Allie. Knew there was a reason I liked you. Thought it was because ya wanted me but-“

Allie snorts. “Fuck off. But about security for Bea.”

“I’m on it. I’ll ring the police and read them the riot act again.” Says Franky. “You know the story though, right? Limited resources. But this fuckery should shift Bea closer to the top of the pile...”

Allie’s sigh comes out of her in a gust. “Franky. Could ya listen to me for a second?”

Franky sighs back at her. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m listening blondie.”

“I have money that sits in the bank and does nothing. From my dad, who was an asshole. Can I hire someone? I want to keep Bea safe.”

There’s a long pause. “Jesus fucking Christ, Allie..” Says Franky. “You fell out of the sky and helped my best friend. You don’t need to do more to-“

“I want to.” Allie interrupts. “I’m going to.” She continues. “But you’re Bea’s best friend. I figured I should check it out with you before I do it.”

“Well fuck me...” Says Franky finally.

Allie laughs. “Thanks, I’d rather not.”

“Into a certain redhead, are we?” Says Franky.

Theres a protracted silence while Allie tries to think what to say. But her mind is unaccountably blank.

Of course she likes Bea. But it isn’t the time or the place.

“You like Red don’t you.” Insists Franky, when the lengthening silence kills her patience. 

Allie sighs. “I - of course I like her. She’s an incredibly likeable person. I don’t see how anyone could do otherwise,” 

“No, I mean you fancy her.”

Allie looks at the women on the bed in front of her and a smile escapes.

“I - she was married and it’s not the right time.” She deflects. “She’s hurt. She’s recovering. And if I can be her friend then that’ll make my life.”

“Franky whistles down the line. “So you DO like her.”

Allie stares once more at Bea, peacefully asleep and breathing lightly. She’s beautiful, all wild hair and perfect cheekbones.

“I... don’t see how anyone could not fancy her.” Says Allie, her voice soft. “But what she needs right now is support - good friends. So I’ll join the ranks.”

“Ya know she likes ya too right?” Says Franky, completely bypassing Allie’s statement. “Didn’t know she had it in her to join the lesbo life but the way she keeps grabbing your hand. And the goldfish face she makes when she looks at ya?”

Allie shakes her head, trying desperately to not care. “It’s not important right now.” She tries.

But her smile is broad. She can’t hide from the hope that rises in her own heart.

“Whatever, idiot.” She says, her smile seeping into her voice. “I’m hiring somebody. How’s Debbie.”

Franky exhales. “Asleep, finally. She misses Bea. Keeps asking for her.”

“Poor thing.” Says Allie sympathetically.  
“Give her a hug from me, will you?”

“She asks for you as well.” Continues Franky. “She misses you.”

“I... miss her too.” Says Allie softly. “You still bringing her tomorrow?”

“Yeah. After school. Bridget says we gotta keep the routine going.”

“Good. That’s good. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Later Allie.”

Allie puts her phone down and looks over at Bea, unable to stop herself smiling.

Beneath her churning stomach, her endless worrying about Bea and Debbie, her burdened heart...

Something happens. Strikes her powerfully.

Hope.

————


	7. And my head won’t stop spinning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea adjusts to staying at the hospital.Allie hangs out with Bea. Neither really knows where they stand. Except they’d both rather like to be standing closer to eachother. Yeah, I’m not going to win any prizes for my summaries but ah well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fell out of me with surprisingly little effort. I think it was the tremendously amazeballs feedback I received. Thank you all. You’re all amazing magical unicorns! Or some praise words that are real...
> 
> Title is from the song Seeibg is Believing from the musical Aspects of Love. You may have guessed I rather like musicals... 
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this. I’ve never been this prolific in producing writing. It’s a great escape!

It’s a strange life, living in a hospital.

But it feels safe too, and that’s more than Bea has had for years. Plus, she has Allie’s right hook and her own words against Harry to protect her now. And every day the fact of her speaking up, paired with Allie’s swift punch lessens the shadow of Harry in her mind.

The burly security guard interrogating visitors at the entrance of her room is hard to miss, too.

Bea never really sleeps very well in the hospital, awoken at scheduled hours throughout the night for checks, and unscheduled hours throughout the night to listen to people cry, laugh, or (in one particularly memorable case) streak the hospital buck-naked. After, a nurse had tactfully termed it a “ medication interaction” but Bea knew from listening to his friends chatter in the cubicle next to hers that the so-called medication was simply the unfortunate mixing of wine, beer and spirits in vast quantities. 

The most fun part was telling Allie about it the next day.

In fact, she woke up repeatedly between checks throughout the early morning, just thinking about Allie’s reaction.

Allie didn’t disappoint. She never disappointed 

“Well, there’s a whole new word for hangover!” Allie had declared, her eyes sparkling with the joyous amusement with which she treated every story Bea told her. She always has time to listen, always has time for Bea. 

“Still on leave from work?” Bea asks.

Allie nods. “Yup. Its good though. Getting in lots of Bea time. And Debbie time.”

Bea smiles, wondering if Allie would roll her eyes again if she thanked her for wasting her valuable time off next to the bed of a stranger she hardly knows. 

“Thank you, Allie.” She says eventually, “I know there really are a hundred more interesting things you could be doing.”

“Nope. Not a one. You clearly don’t realise just how awesome you are Bea.” Says Allie.

“You’re just weird,” Says Bea, But she’s flushed and she’s smiling.

“So what’ve you been up to when you’re not visiting me?” Bea finally asks, desperate to evade the compliment but equally desperate to avoid running out of things to say. 

Because, what if Allie leaves?

She had no stories left, nothing interesting to say, and she sometimes worries Allie will get bored. But bafflingly she’s stuck with Bea even on the days when she resorted to inane comments about the weather.

And when there wasn’t Allie there was little Debbie, who came everyday after school accompanied by one of the gang. And as always, coming and going around busy lives but always caring, Franky, Bridget, Boomer, Lizz and Maxine were present and concerned. 

“Laundry, room tidying. Boring stuff. Far more fun to be here.” Says Allie.

A nurse interrupts their conversation to flush Bea’s drip and hang a line of saline and another of painkiller.

“Far more fun stuff? Really?” Bea says doubtfully. “I mean I know I get to hang with the saline and industrial strength painkillers, but....” she lets her words drift off, smirking at Allie.

“And I get to hang with the Bea.” Says Allie, eyeing Bea’s painkiller bag. “They still have you on that stuff?”

Bea nods. “Less, though.”

Allie gives an exaggerated huff. “You mean talkative Bea won’t give me a slurred and yet fascinating description of the correct way to apply dye evenly on hair with low-level pigmentation?”

Bea flushes. “I still don’t remember that.”

Allie just smiles. “I will never forget that. I felt both highly enlightened and worried they’d upped your dosage way too much.”

Bea laughs, smiling shyly at Allie. “You seeing Deb today?” 

“Yup. Did the school run for her this morning and she should be by later today. She asked me a bunch of questions about boats and puppies and now wants an eight-foot yacht and a Daschund so good luck with letting those bubbles burst.”

Bea just shakes her head, smiling. “You’re so good with her.”

“She’s so good with me.” Allie counters, her hand falling naturally to rest on top of Bea’s. “She’s my favourite kid.”

“Mine too.” Husks Bea, struggling to appear normal, sound normal. But anytime Allie touches her her brain becomes a blurry, happy haze and her heartbeat an obnoxiously loud nightmare.

At least she isn’t on heart monitors anymore. Her explanations for having an accelerated heart rate had sounded more far-fetched each time.

Still, even blurry-minded with this silly crush she craves more contact. She finds herself automatically linking their fingers, feeling Allie’s smooth, warm hands slide between hers. It’s bliss.

She releases an unexpected breath but Allie, luckily doesn’t comment, instead smiling at Bea.

“You’re looking so much better, Bea. Your cheeks have colour again and everything.”

Bea smiles. “That might be less to do with my health and more to do with my friend-“ she inclines her head at Allie “-who enjoys making me blush.” She finishes.

Allie laughs. “It really is the most fun I’ve ever had.” She grins. “Although to be fair I’ve never asked drugged-out Bea a deep philosophical question before. Bet that’s even more delightful .”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Says Bea.

Allie grins, her eyes flicking to the slowly depleting painkiller bag. “Probably not. But who can say? It would at least give me something interesting to tell you tomorrow so you don’t nod off again.”

Bea rolls her eyes at Allie. “Change the channel, Novak.” She says.

“Seriously Bea. It was my best-ever story! It had puppies! And kittens! How could you fall asleep? My ego may never recover!” She lets out an exaggerated sigh, her head lolling forward to rest softly against to Bea’s arm.

Bea feels warm all over, distracted by the soft warmth of Allie leaning softly, gingerly against her. She doesn’t want to point it out, doesn’t want it to stop. So she assembles an answer

“Two bags of morphine and at least seven wake ups by my hazy arithmetic. Forgive me?”

Allie stands, looking down at Bea, and as much as Bea misses the soft contact of Allie’s head on her arm, Allie is strikingly lovely to behold from this angle too.

“Course. You know I was joking, right? I just...worry” her voice gets a little higher, and she looks almost pained. “I worry that you’ll eventually get sick of me visiting you.”

Bea starts, her tongue loosening at Allie’s surprisingly insecure words. “You’re always interesting Allie. You’ve never once tried to exchange pleasantries about the weather with me.... where as I... “ she shakes her head. “Why am I telling you this? You’ll realise I’m boring and I’ll be stuck talking to myself.”

Allie merely shakes her head. “Nah. You’re fascinating, Bea.”

Bea flushes bright red, reaching for Allie. It soothes her the way Allie automatically stumbles forward and takes her hand. She squeezes Allie’s fingers gently, feeling a little light headed. Clearly the medication has well and truly made it into her system now. 

But then Allie does that to her, too. And she feels a strange need to reassure the former stranger who took her and Deb sailing and somehow ended up sitting at her bedside. In this short space of time, Allie has become the best friend she’s ever had.

And the loveliest.

She looks into Allie’s blue eyes and smiles at her the way she often wants to, with her whole face.

“Allie,” she says, “please keep coming to see me. You’re fascinating. And you’re becoming one of my favourite people.” She adds, her voice low and barely audible. But she knows Allie, who listens so carefully to everything she says, will hear her.

Allie smiles and smiles, exuding a soft loveliness that Bea never remembers seeing anywhere before. “You’ve become such a close friend, Bea.” She utters warmly and Bea can’t help but smile widely, and look into her beautiful face.

Allie’s eyes laser into hers and the moment stretches beautifully between them. She sees Allie lick at her lips, feels the soothing warmth of their fingers interlocking and wishes she could cradle Allie against herself. 

I just want to breathe her in, she thinks. 

And maybe kiss her.

The same question that’s lingered endlessly since she met Allie resurfaces as she sees Allie’s tongue dart out to lick her lips. 

Am I gay?

Allie’s lips keep catching her eye, so soft and pink and full, and Bea can see them in her head, even after she averts her eyes.

Can Allie please be gay?

“Thanks Bea.” Says Allie.

Bea stares back at her, her mind completely blank. She’s too hazy with medicine, with Alllie’s preposterous level of gorgeousness. And now she has no idea what Allie is thanking her for.

“You’re... welcome, Allie.” She says finally.

——

“Mumma!” 

She sound of her daughter’s joyful voice wakes Bea from a nap.

“Hi baby.” She sits, struggling to turn the blurry figures in front of her into real, live humans. 

Once her vision clears, she sees Allie drawing her daughter into her lap and feels a surge of affection for them both. Her daughter looks content and well cared for, and she knows she’ll never be able to thank her friends enough for taking her little girl on. At first she just stares at Debbie with her wild hair with its crooked parting, clashing pink jeans with a orange top and brilliant smile.

And then she looks at Allie, beautiful as always, holding Debbie who very much needs to be held right now.

There’s a cough on her other side and she turns slightly to see Franky and Bridget smiling at her.

“Hey Red. Lookin’ better.” Says Franky. “Cheeks have some colour in them.”

Franky’s girlfriend nods, sitting herself down in a hard-plastic chair and looking appraisingly at Bea. “She’s right.” She confirms. And then they both look thoughtfully toward Allie.

It’s a struggle to enunciate clearly around Debbie, but Bea gives it a shot. she’d rather her daughter saw her mother as a consistent thing.

“That’s Allie’s fault.” She concentrates on  
saying slowly and evenly. She puts out her hands and Allie guides them into her daughter’s smaller ones.

Debbie takes her mother’s hands in question. “Mumma, what’d Allie do?”

Shit. Instead of saying it slowly she should have just avoided saying it.

“She just means I like to tease her.” Says Allie, her hands smoothing over Debbie’s curls. “Like Franky does.”

Debbie nods. “I think she likes it more when you do it, Allie. She smiles lots and lots.”

Bea blushes beet-red. Allie smiles, Franky looks painfully smug, Bridget covers her smile with her hand and Debbie goes on talking.

Bea smiles at Debbie, studiously avoiding the eyes of everyone, but especially Allie.

Allie, unseen by Bea, smiles widely.


	8. One foot in front of the other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea changes medications. Allie hangs out with Bea. They get an update on Harry. Franky and Allie talk. Well, they don’t talk much. 
> 
> I know, this tells you nothing. Sorry! I hate summaries!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I rewrote this 11,0000000 times and it ended up being my longer than my chapters have been
> 
> Bea’s experiences of tramadol are loosely based on mine some years ago. Except I mostly waxed lyrical about food and cried at cute animals.... horrible stuff!
> 
> Also Bea and Allie are doing a crap job of “slow burn” and I kept having to delete stuff my I hands wrote that wasn’t on the chapter summary. I left some stuff in though. I couldn’t resist.
> 
> Title is from ‘Here Right Now.’ A song from the musical version of Ghost.
> 
> Please let me know what you think. I really, sincerely appreciate every word.

It’s late in the day that word comes through of Harry’s arrest. By then it’s just Bea and Allie and the former is on what Allie thinks of as a metric tonne of tramadol.

Bea had forgotten her pain for long enough to lean too-far-forward to hug her daughter goodby and then tried to hide a gasp of sheer agony as her observant friends hurried a hopefully none-the-wiser Debbie out of the room. After that Allie couldn’t press the emergency call button fast enough. And the result? Bea is slurring her words, oddly complimentary of Allie’s hair, and completely hilarious.

In other words, she’s high.

“He wasna’ arrest before?” She slurs the Officer, her eyes glazed with medication. 

The Police Officer says a lot, without actually saying very much at all. About how Harry wasn’t considered a risk to Bea after his initial arrest as she was in hospital (Allie’s snort is audible streets away), about how they needed to build a case against him before making the second arrest. 

“Her X-rays didn’t do the job for ya?” Says Allie angrily. “And that whole breaking the Order? That wasn’t a hint?”

Bea stares at Allie, a little puzzled bu how much she cares. Without really meaning to, she smiles dazedly at Allie, losing her train of the conversation.

The Police Officer continues to mutter and mumble about procedure until Allie interrupts him with the only question she really wants answered.

“Can he get back out? Back to Bea?” She asks, a trifle impatiently. And there’s a steely edge in her voice. Like she’d Stop him herself if he tried. 

Nobody can get to me, Bea thinks. I have Allie. She smiles at her some more and Allie takes her hand. She’s so gentle, even as she’s frowning at the Police Officer.

“Will he be bailed? No” the man answers his own question. “Bail has been denied due to Harry violating his DVO.” He continues.

He starts to explain what DVO stands for, but Allie interrupts him with a curt “I know what that stands for.” 

He leaves shortly thereafter, promising to send an update to Franky’s address with Harry’s sentencing dates.

“You were kind of mean to him.” Says Bea, blinking at Allie in the strange, slow way she tends to do everything when under the influence of Tramadol. They’d removed her drip a day ago, and Tramadol in capsule form seemed to now be the drug of choice for treating her pain instead of morphine.

Allie shrugs. “Someone’s gotta be the bad cop. And you’re way too stoned. She smiles for the first time since the Officer arrived. “Congratulations, by the way. You didn’t compliment his hair even once. Very restrained of you.” She fingers her long, tangled tresses, inadvertantly drawing Bea’s eye to them.

Bea looks puzzled. “He didn’t have any.” She says to Allie, her face a picture of endearing confusion. Allie fidgets, suppressing the ridiculous desire to reach out and smooth the lines in Bea’s brow. She likes her every which way; stoned, straight, awkward, shy - any and all Bea’s are her dream girls. It’s so hard not to be taken with her. 

“Anyways,” Says Bea, smiling at Allie hazy-eyed. 

Anyways? Thinks Allie, not quite swallowing her smile. 

“I only-“ Bea continues screwing up her face in avid concentration “com-pli-ment” she says carefully enunciating every syllable, “your hair.” She finishes.

Allie cannot help but smile. Those words make it into a reflex. Poor Bea. This stuff is way worse than morphine. But her words, her lack of a filter is utterly delightful. 

“You have pretty hair.” Bea continues, a lopsided smile painting her beautiful features. Allie tells herself that Bea is high, that this is nothing, but she loves it, loves it, loves it. 

She beams at Bea, her cheeks pink. “Thank you, Bea.” She says, adding, “how much Tramadol did they give you, anyway?”

“It’s’o’long.” Bea continues, the words running together. She seems blithely unaware of the continuing conversation. “And issh’so...golden. 

She stares at Allie, and for a second, her speech is normal.  
“It makes you give off light.” She adds softly.

Allie knows that this is Bea high as a kite, knows to take this with a truckload of salt, but she can’t help but enjoy Bea’s words; can not help but smile and hope like hell the slurred words mean something.

“Thanks Bea.” She repeats, her face a ridiculously wide grin. “Maybe once you’re better you can give me a haircut.”

“Could cu’ your hair now!” Says Bea enthusiastically springing into a sitting position in her bed. 

She hisses in agony at the movement, her forgotten wounds painfully remembered. Her brown eyes are immediately blurry with tears. Instantly, Allie is by her side, supporting her to slowly lower herself back into lying-down position. It’s kind, Allie is kind, but oh God, it hurts. She’s shaking with pain, groaning at every movement.

Allie’s hand comes up to stroke Bea’s hair softly, gently wiping Bea’s tears away with the sleeves of her own shirt.

“Oh Bea, I’m so sorry.” She says softly, continuing to nudge at Bea’s tears with her now-sodden sleeves. Her kindness, her unending sympathy just breaks Bea and she finds herself crying even harder.

“M’sorry. It’s the Tramadol. Makes me weird.” Bea sniffles, trying to regain control of herself, but for once she can’t. The tears fill her up, and bowls issue forth.

Gingerly, carefully, Allie climbs out of her seat.

She’s leaving, thinks Bea. I’m too much. This is too much. She’s leaving me.

It makes her cry even harder.

For a second Allie is out of sight, and then she says “Bea- sweetheart. I’m right behind you. There’s more room. Is it okay if I give you a hug.”

Bea’s “Yeah,” is a startled rasp of a word between hiccuping coughs and sobs. 

Allie is not leaving her.

Allie hugging her isn’t so much okay as it is the dictionary definition of heaven. But even in her drug addled state she manages not to say that. 

At least, she hopes she doesn’t.  
Bea feels Allie’s warm hand touching her back, the bed slowly, carefully creaking as she puts her weight onto it. 

Allie does everything slowly and purposefully. It feels strange, it feels new.

It feels like respect.

When Allie stretches out, her legs press warmly behind Bea’s, her front moulding carefully to Bea’s back. Bea finds her stomach tumbling warmly sideways at the feel of Allie’s chest against her backbone. At the warmth, the scent, the feel of Allie -all around her.

It’s all a bit too much, and she finds herself crying more. It’s odd, she hasn’t cried like this in years. 

Maybe ever.

When Alllie’s forehead presses against the back of her neck she can feel her whole body exhale in relief. And the tears start to stop, her breathing normalising.

She’s forgotten what relief it felt like - in the midst of Harry’s fists and kicks and horrible words, forgotten how words weren’t just snarling tools added to punctuate wounds.

Words could help, could ease her heart and mind. At least Allie’s words could.

Allie found a way to delve into the crapshoot of her life and bring all the good back. And she doesn’t know how to even start her thanks.

“Allie, thank you.” She murmurs. There’s this gorgeous comforting scent all around her, an amazing warmth everywhere within her, she feels strange as her breathing normalises, not calm, but exhilarated, exhausted and warmed from head to toe.

Allie inhales deeply, her hot breaths warming the back of Bea’s neck, sending flushing tingles rushing through her. “Don’t thank me. I think I needed a hug just as much as you did.”

Bea sniffs, avoiding talk of hugs. “Sorry I cried.” She finally offers.

Allie’s hand reaches carefully around to cover Bea’s mouth, making Bea start against the blonde’s hand. “Shush, Bea. No need to be sorry. Look at what your life has been. You’re entitled to throw a hundred more hissy fits and I’ll still think you’re amazing. I’ll still give you hugs.” Her hot lips press briefly to the back of Bea’s neck and Bea wonders if Allie can feel the way she twitches, hear the shocked, body-wide exhale. Feel the tingles all the way to her toes.

There’s this warmth surging through her now and it’s both totally unfamiliar and completely exhilarating. She wants this for her new, Harry-less life.

Exactly this.

“Allie?” She says, the word low and sweet.

“Mmmmm” Allie’s world is a mere vibration on her neck, a hum that echoes warmly through every inch of Bea.

“I... can’t rem’ber.” She says, fighting tiredness desperately; willing her body to let her stay awake, warm and safe in this beautiful moment. 

———-

When Bea falls soundly asleep, Allie disentangles herself reluctantly from her and stands before the sleeping redhead, her expression both pained and immensely affectionate.

Watching Bea cry her heart out was a surprise. She’s never really seen Bea be anything but stoic. And she hopes desperately that her words and her arms helped at least a little.

In a way, being around Bea feels so much harder than any relationship ever has before. Because she’s already in this, no foot out the door in case her past is too much for the other person, no exit strategy planned. 

She wants to never leave. She wants to always be the person who hugs Bea.

It’s a strange contradiction, but in so many more ways, being around Bea feels like the easiest and most natural thing in the world. 

She knows, instinctively, that she already feels way too much for this still-married, traumatised woman. The pull toward her she felt from the beginning was stronger than anything she’s felt before. And it’s not lessening with time. It’s just getting deeper, stronger, fiercer.

And that hug? God, they were just cuddling and she felt everything she needed to feel, right in that moment.

And she’s going to keep coming back. Has to. Because if there’s even the tiniest chance that there’s something here, she needs to wait for Bea to be ready for it.

And if not? She can’t picture a better friend than Bea. A sweeter, smarter child than Debbie. A better life than one with them in it in whatever way.

She gets out a piece of paper from her bag to write Bea a goodbye message. Wanting to make sure Bea doesn’t wake up and feel vulnerable or alone. But needing to get home before the hovering nurses send her packing. They’ve tolerated her loose definition of ‘visiting hours’ with incredible equanimity, but she doesn’t want to push it and be asked to leave.

‘Hi Bea,’ She writes

Sorry to leave you fast asleep rather than saying goodbye but courtesy of your BFF Tramadol you’re totally dead to the world. The ever-tolerant nurses are starting to look at me like I shouldn’t be here, only a mere two-and-a-half hours after visiting hours are over! But I’ll see you tomorrow after I’ve dropped little Deb off.’

She hesistates when it comes to signing the letter, but she wants Bea to feel loved when she wakes up. So she throws caution to the wind and scrawls out ‘Love, Allie xxx.’ To end the note.

She places the note on Bea’s desk, propped between a glass of water and a flower vase and looks down at Bea

Her face is peaceful in sleep, only slightly obscured by her wild reddish-brain hair. Allie smooths it back tenderly, unable to resist running her hand down the smooth side of Bea’s face. She cannot help but stare at Bea for a bit longer, taking in her cheekbones, her pale skin, her long eyelashes before picking up her bag and leaving the room.

She gets to the car park and hails a taxi to Franky’s, finding herself struggling not to cry as they drive away.

It’s pathetic, misplaced, crazy, but it’s undeniable. 

She misses Bea so much already.

———

When she gets back only Franky is still up. Allie heads straight to turn on the kettle, making herself a cup of tea.

“Want some tea, Franky?”

“I’d rather drink stewed shit.”

“Colourful turn of phrase.” Allie remarks, unsurprised. “Coffee then?”

“Nah. I want to actually sleep tonight.”

Allie shrugs, sipping at her hot drink and waiting for Franky to speak.

“Got ya text about Harry. Thank fuck he’s finally behind bars. I’m having someone at work follow it up to try and get them to throw away the key.”

Allie huffs our a laugh that’s not at all amused. .”I wish they would just throw away the key.” She comments, feeling fear and anger curdle within her. “Asshole.” She snarls, in a sudden fit of anger.

Franky sees the fire in her eyes and uncharacteristically changes the topic.

“How’s our girl doing?”

Allie rolls her eyes, and simply says “Tramadol.”

“Ah, I forgot they were switching her to that shit. Makes people sick as fuck. Gidget says the nurses call it eat-and-repeat.”

Allie scrunches up her face. “She’s not getting sick but thanks for the visual. Just emotional and sappy. It’s-“ she pauses, not knowing how to say this without sounding soft.

“It was quite endearing at first, actually.”

Franky rolls her eyes. “You’d say that about her farting, Allie.” She says dismissively.

Allie ignores Franky (something she had discovered is a good rule of thumb for dealing with Franky in general) before continuing, “But she got quite upset later today. Again, I think it’s the drugs. She cried for an hour. I’ve never seen her cry. It was... I felt bad for her. I hope I helped.”

Franky looks stunned.

“What the fuck! Bea isn’t a crier. The whole time I’ve known her she’s never cried.”

She looks at Allie, her eyes shrewd and thoughtful. “What’d you do?”

Allie eyes her tea. “Told her she was amazing. Gave her a hug.”

“Did it help?” Asks Franky.

Allie nods. “Yeah. I think so. I think crying did too. She seemed... better after she cried. 

Franky nods, looking pleased and surprised. She eyes Allie shrewdly. But she doesn’t say a word.

Eventually though, she smiles.


	9. Still you never took your hand (from mine).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Debbie raises heart rates. Allie and Bea chat. Nothing happens and it’s over two thousand words... you’re welcome?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These characters seem to be really into doing whatever the hell they want. I’m really not sure who is writing this thing at the moment. But I hope it still strikes a chord (and not a bung one!).
> 
> Thank you to those of you who have commented. It makes me insanely happy, it also makes me sit in a coffee shop mainlining music and caffeine and grinding out the next chapter in record time so that’s good, I suppose?
> 
> I’m going to update my other fic before I update this one again but hopefully it’ll be next week sometime unless writers block visits. It’s been oddly absent lately which is the best thing ever.
> 
> Chapter is based on a line from a song by Matt Nathanson called ‘Love Comes Tumbling down.’ Don’t worry, their love doesn’t come tumbling down. The indivdual lyric just fits the title.

When Allie finally makes it into the hospital that morning it’s two hours later than usual and she finds herself feeling distinctly annoyed at having to maintain any social nicety that further delays seeing Bea. 

It’s been a tough week for all of them. But maybe, for Bea, the hardest.

Four days ago upon her arrival home Debbie had surprised her by still being awake. As easygoing as she’d been in the past six weeks about staying at Franky and Bridget’s house, she was suddenly quite the opposite.

She’d refused her dinner and (in the words of Franky, who’d been on the receiving end, ‘thrown a rip-roaring fucking tantrum.”) When Allie arrived home she demanded to see her mother. Allie hadn’t arrive until thirty minutes in, but her ears still rang at the memory. 

When describing it to Bea later, desperate to elicit a smile, she’d suggested that Debbie might have a future performing lead vocals in a death metal band.

Throwing her bag down, Allie had quickly relieved an exhausted Franky of Debbie duties and took the little girl into her arms. In the short time that she’d known Debbie, she’d quickly learned that when nothing else worked, a hug usually did. 

But this time, it didn’t.

Debbie wailed, her face red in patches and stark white in others.

It wasn’t until ten shameful minutes later as Allie was rocking a still-sobbing Debbie in her arms that she realised the little girl was considerably warmer than she usually was. Feverish.

“Debbie, honey, she stroked the little girl’s damp, hot cheek and leaned over to say in her ear. ‘Do you miss mumma because you’re sick?”

Debbie quietens, reduced to hiccuping sobs.

“Yeah.” She says, “I just wanted mumma to make me betterer.”

“Better.” Allie automatically corrects, and then feels like a total asshole. 

She kisses Debbie’s burning forehead. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. You were trying to tell me and I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry.”

“Can I have mumma?” Says Debbie, her voice pitifully sad. 

Allie’s heart breaks. She has no answer so she pulls Debbie’s little body against her and smooths her sweaty locks back from her pink face.

She’s never had much to do with children. And frankly the last time she vomited it decidedly wasn’t the flu. But she knows a few things, did the cursory training on people when she learnt how to care for animals.

She needs water, to keep Debbie hydrated, she needs to take her temperature, medicate her and try and get her feeling comfortable, and oh, she needs a bucket.

Rocking a quieter Debbie back and forth in her lap she promises they will try and ring mumma later. And then, feeling a bit foolish for calling someone who is in the next room, she speed dials Franky.

“You know I’m in the next room, right? Millennial asshole.” Says Franky by way of greeting. 

“Debbie feels really hot and she says she’s feeling sick. Can I have some water and a thermometer. And something to bring the fever down? Paracetamol?” 

There’s a dull clunk on the other line and Franky comes racing into the room, trailed by Bridget.

Franky takes one look at Debbie, her blotchy, red cheeks and white face and sits next to them, her expression unfamiliar with tenderness.

“Oh shit kiddo. I’m sorry, I should have known.” She says. “Want me to put you into bed, little one.”

Debbie buries her face in Allie’s shoulder, her little hands clinging to Allie around her neck, her little body radiating far too much heat. “I feel so bad. I stay with Allie.” She says. 

Allie doesn’t have the heart to move her, pressing a kiss to the little girl’s curls. “It’s okay, little one. I’ll stay with you.”

They coax her to drink a little water and a spoonful of lurid pink kid’s paracetamol that Bridget runs out for by giving it to her through a bright green straw, and then she lays limp in Allie’s arms, too tired to fight having her temperature taken the way she had fought every other thing that night. Poor kid. 

When it beeps to indicate a result, Allie lifts it up. 

38.9. Shit. 

Allie blinks at it. “That’s normal-ish in a dog she says to Debbie, trying to mask her panic. “Are you a doggie, little one?”

Debbie sort-of smiles. “Allie,” she says....”Allie I feel...-“ and then she empties the contents of her stomach all over Allie.

“Oh honey.” Says Allie, pressing a kiss to the little girl’s forehead., barely noticing she’s covered in puke. “Oh sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Want Mumma.” Says Debbie. And promptly bursts into tears. I made Allie messy and now we smells all yucky and want my Mumma!” She says, her run-on sentence breaking Allie’s heart anew.

Allie removes her jacket which copped the worst of it and gathers the little girl in her arms. “I want your Mumma too, little one.” She says, mindlessly unaware of the way Franky’s eyes meet Bridget’s above her head. “Now let’s get you washed up and into bed.”

They wash Debbie off quickly and Allie helps her to rinse the taste out of her mouth with water and toothpaste. At Allie’s request they then tuck her into the spare bed next to her one so she can keep an eye on her throughout the night.

Four days and two doctors visits later she was finally on the mend.

According to Franky the second appointment wasn’t strictly necessary but Allie, who’d always thought that in the distant reality where she had kids she’d be a ‘cool mum’ turned out to be a totally paranoid helicopter parent.

As a result, none of them have seen as much of Bea as they like. Allie missed a day of seeing Bea completely when both the other two had to work during the day, and Debbie didn’t want her to leave at night. Though they called Bea later, together, Allie was shocked how much the separation felt like an actual, physical pain.

She knows it’s worse for Debbie, who just wants her mumma. Sometimes a hug from Allie helps. But sometimes she’s inconsolable.

It’s worse for Bea too. Hearing about it all at a distance. Unable to help or even hug her little girl until she’s properly recovered.

——

Allie knows when she arrives that evening to see Bea l that it must’ve been a rough day for her . Because Bea hasn’t seen her beloved little girl in four days. And she’s a mother at heart.

The nurses forewarned Allie, telling tales of the pain-filled night she’d had, the bad news from the doctor this morning.

But she’d know all that even if they hadn’t said a word. Because the Bea she meets when she comes into that morning appears stiff, uncomfortable and listless.

Without really considering it, Allie plops herself down on the chair next to Bea and takes the safety rail down, snuggling her head next to Bea’s.

“Hi Bea, I’m sorry,.” She says. “Heard you’ve been in the wars.”

Bea remains stationary, afraid to move even an inch in case she hurts herself again. “Not since world war Harry.” She says, but her hand moves gingerly forward to sit atop Allie’s head.

“I hurt.” She says. “And then I forget and I move and I just get worse.”

Allie reaches out a hand to stroke Bea’s one. “I know,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry.” She adds.

“I’m sad.” Bea husks. “I just want to see my little girl and check she’s okay. And I want this stupid pain to stop.”

“She’s getting better.” Offers Allie. “She kept down soup yesterday. It’s only because I’m what Franky terms a ‘paranoid momma bear’ that we took her back to the Doc. I think I’ve ruined my chilled-out-roommate cred with them, though.”

“You’re amazing Allie. I’d have been exactly the same.” She says gently.

Allie smiles at her, really smiles.  
“I can’t describe what a relief it is to see her on the mend. I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for four days.”

Bea smiles and looks stricken at the same time . “Allie... it’s like you took the words from my brain.” She says. “Especially not being around her. “But I know she’s been in incredible hands. I just want her better again, you know.”

Allie smiles, her face a picture of nervous joy. “I so get that. But she’s getting there. Breathe out. She’s going to be fine.”

Allie finds saying the words aloud is unexpectedly a comfort to her as well.

“Thanks Allie.” Says Bea, a shy smile curling her lips upward. “God, you’re the nicest person. You’re good to her. Too me.”

“I don’t see another way to be with both of you,” Says Allie, her sincerity confounding but utterly enchanting.

“Anyway,” Allie continues. “Why the pain?”

“Surgery fucking hurts.” Grunts Bea.

Allie hums in gentle agreement, but she has information, gleaned from the nurses. “They said you refused painkilllers.” She says gently. “Sweetheart. I’m no fan of drugs but take the damn drugs. They’ll make you better.”

Bea looks embarrassed, her cheeks turning pink for no reason Allie can fathom. “They make me fucking weird. And then you end up talking to a weirdo with no filter who says stupid shit.”

Allie lifts her head to look at Bea, and strokes a hand down the smoothness of Bea’s arm, meeting’s her eyes so she’ll listen. 

“I remember every word you’ve said since we met, Bea. Nothing you say is stupid.” Says Allie softly. “Nothing.” 

“Yesterday I spent an hour telling you about Debbie’s potty training. And waffle toasters.”

Allie smilrs. “I liked hearing about Debbie as a little girl. And Debbie loved hearing about the waffle toasters. It got her to smile. Which basically makes you my new favourite person as well as my old favourite, We ordered one online for when you’re back. It has an unfortunate cartoon character on it and everything.” 

Favourite. Bea smiles. She’s Allie’s favourite. 

“Besides,” she continues, intent on eliciting a grin from Bea “stoned you is really complimentary about me.”

Despite Allie’s intentions, Bea stiffens further, seeming to retreat even further into herself. And Allie thinks she’s starting to understand a little. 

Bea is embarrassed. She feels exposed.

Allie makes a decision.

“You’re embarrassed? Okay... let me tell you some awkward shit about me. Level the playing field, hey?”

Bea just stares at her. “I sincerely doubt there’s anything. You’re funny. You’re always put together. You’re good with kids.” You’re absolutely freaking stunningly beautiful, she says, but only in her head, 

“You forgot gorgeous.” Says Allie, grinning.

Bea blushes. “I didn’t,” she says to her hands. But she doesn’t elaborate.

“It’s pretty easy to say, Bea.” Says Allie. “Two syllables. “Gour-geous. Go on, make my day.”

Bea shakes her head at Allie, wincing a little at the movement. It seems to spur something on in Allie.

“Okay Bea. Let me tell you some embarrassing stuff about me so you feel better about complimenting my gorgeous hair.”

“Allie, you don’t-“

“I walked into a power pole once. I was eleven years old and I saw a girl I had a crush on.” 

“You’re gay?” The word is husky on Bea’s lips.

Allie smiles a little at that being Bea’s response to her admission, her eyes darting automatically to Bea’s lips. “Yup. Always sort of knew. But the power pole just threw it into high relief. By which I mean I had a bruise the size of a small country on my forehead.” 

Bea smiles, and then bites her lip, attempting to hide the smile.

“Want to know more?” Asks Allie.

At Bea’s nod she says “Take your meds, then. I like dopey Bea. I like not-dopey Bea. Basically, I just like ya.”

Bea flushes. But willingly takes the tramadol that rests on her bedside table.

“Tell me more.” Bea says, her shy smile the ultimate antidote to Allie’s long week. 

“My first girlfriend was my then best-friend. Sophie.” She says finally.

“Oh.” Says Bea. “How-how old were you?”

“Fourteen.” Says Allie. “Young, but I knew.”

Bea nods. “I know it’s like that for some people.” She says, flushing. 

Not for me, she thinks, for me it was meeting you.

“Were your parents cool with it?”  
She asks. She can’t imagine anyone related to Allie being otherwise.

Allie dips her head forward, her beautiful hair obscuring her face. 

“My dad was an asshole. Kicked me out.” She says shortly,

“Shit,” Says Bea, her hand reaching out blindly for Allie’s until she has cleaved their hands together, “What a bastard . Did your mum help you?”

She assumes it was yes. She can’t imagine doing that to Debbie. She wouldn’t. Ever. And Allie is radiance itself. Allie is everything.

“No. I was.... on the streets for a while. Made lots of mistakes.” Her eyes skitter away. “Did many things I’m ashamed of. Drugs. Selling myself. I’m clean now though. It’s... a long story.” She concludes.

Bea’s eyes fill with tears. “Oh Allie. I’m so sorry. You deserved better parents. You’re the best person I know.”

Allie hadn’t really meant to say as much as she did and looks flabbergasted at Bea’s response Then she smiles with her whole face, cheeks turning beet-red. Her hands come up to Bea’s face, wiping away the tears gently. It tingles all the way to Bea’s toes.

Allie looks lovely. And Bea wonders at the shape of her face, all the ways she could try and fail to echo it with a paintbrush. Allie is so beautiful it cannot possibly be replicated.

“He died two years later.” Allie continues, and Bea forces herself to stop staring and listen. “Left me a hefty inheritance because the arrogant jerk thought he was going to live forever, due to that dirtbag, I’m rich. I routinely give it to gay charities just to piss the asshole off from beyond the grave.”

Bea laughs. Her first laugh in days.

“You’re amazing Allie.” She says.

“Oi Bea. Stop talking about yourself.” Allie says, winking at Bea.

Bea laughs. And Allie smiles at her, her blue eyes radiantly beautiful.

“Thank you.” Says Bea,

“For what?” Says Allie, puzzled.

“For telling me about you.” Says Bea, her. “For carin’ for Debbie the way I do. ‘Preciate it.” The words have a medicated edge to them now, the drugs finally taking affect.

And then Bea does something brave that has nothing to do with her medicated state and reaches down to hold Allie’s hand between hers.

She lifts it to her lips and kisses it. It’s warm against her lips, soft. 

It’s Allie. 

“Gor-geous” Bea carefully enunciates. 

She doesn’t know where the bravery came from. But it makes her feel powerful, feel beautiful.

Allie just blinks at her at first, but gradually, a smile blooms on her face. 

Like everything else about her, it’s utterly beautiful.


	10. keeping pretty words (between my teeth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky and Bea talk about progress in Bea’s legal process.
> 
> Bea and Allie talk.
> 
> Don’t think anyone vomits in this chapter so guess that’s s plus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I said I would update my other fic first. Writers block (evidently for that story only) made me into a lying liar from Liarsville. Sorry! Hopefully soon!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who commented. Your words about my last chapter meant the actual world to me and kept this ahead of schedule. I continue to be endlessly moved by your kind words (and by the other amazing stories I read). Thank you!!!!!!!!!
> 
> I’m sitting in a coffee shop as I wrote this listening to a coffee maker churn so I should probably also thank that lovely noise. But I mean no sarcasm in that statement.... it’s a good background!
> 
> The title to this chapter is a line from a song by Sarah Slean called ‘My Invitation’ which is, along with the churning coffee maker, the main soundtrack for this piece.
> 
> Again, thank you for commenting. You are all magical, wonderful people!

Allie goes through the car ride home in a daze. She smiles and smiles. And then, realising she’s behaving like Debbie on a sugar rush, she tries to get a grip.

Bea kissed her hand. Just her hand. It’s no big deal.

Except that it is.

Bea kissed her hand and her husky voice perfectly enunciated the word gorgeous. And she was talking. About Allie, 

It’s all there now, in Allie’s head. It will be there forever now.

And she feels alight with it.

Bea sounded certain. True in a way very few things in life are.

Allie’s head is light and warm and she’s entirely forgotten why on earth she was having such a hard day earlier.

She knows Bea, at least, feels like she knows the push and pull of her. And though she spends acres of time wondering what exactly goes on inside Bea’s head, she can only see what just happened as a good thing.

Bea, who at times cannot even look at her, reached out. Without reddening cheeks or hesitation. She kissed her. She teased her. 

It fills Allie with hope.

——-

 

When Franky comes into the room the next day Bea is smiling widely at absolutely nothing.

“Hey Red. Did they just up your dose or are you happy to see me.”

“Neither.” Says Bea, consciously letting the smile go. But there’s a strange contentedness building inside of her. “How’s Deb?”

“Much better!” Says Franky. “She’s currently at home watching crappy Disney movies. She’s somehow conned Allie into watching Beauty and the Beast with her. Again! Your girl’s a softie.”

“Which one?” Asks Bea distractedly, her mind full of Debbie and Allie. How good Allie is to her little girl.

Franky’s eyebrows almost disappear into her hairline, having expected a swift denial.

“Allie..... and since when are you calling her your girl.”

“Oh.” Says Bea, flushing. “She’s not.... Uh. Didn’t mean too.”

Franky smiles smugly. “Ya sure about that, Red?”

Bea just shakes her head at Franky. 

“-Not to change the subject-“ Says Bea, attempting just that.

“-Except that you totally are.” Interrupts Franky.

Bea frowns at Franky. 

“I just want to know if you got a response to the filing. For separation from-?”

“-From the asshole? Yeah. Sorry! I was so excited when I first found out I almost called Allie and told her the path was clear.”

She grins at Bea.

“You know, Allie, right?” She says. “The hot bird who you just said is not your girl.” 

“Go fuck yourself.” Says Bea, but she’s too embarrassed to really put much feeling into her words. Does Allie know? Does Allie care? 

She reaches carefully to her bedside table for a plastic beaker of water to cool her parched throat.

“Sure I’ll go fuck myself. Only if you go fuck, ahem, herself.” Says Franky.

Bea, mid-sip spits water down Franky’s front. 

Franky starts to wipe herself off, and Bea can see the sparkle in her eye that indicates a bad joke is coming.

Bea shakes her head. “Don’t.” She says. “Just leave it.”

Oddly, and maybe for the first time in her life, Franky obliges.

“Your new address is registered as mine. Oh and even the asshole signed off on it which means it starts today!”

Bea looks genuinely shocked.

“Wow. How’d you swing that?”

Franky grins. “Told ya he would!” She says smugly. “The order against him makes him look a total bully if he doesn’t consent. His lawyer must have talked him into it. Oh. And I’m bloody terrifying.”

Bea laughs. “Already knew that. So what now?”

“Twelve months and one day and ya can get legally divorced.”

“That’s... about what I expected.” Says Bea. But she cannot help but feel dejected.

Twelve months is a long time. And she can’t exactly expect....

Not that she expects.... God, this is probably all for nothing. She’s imagining things. She’s imagining feelings other than her own.

It’s the drugs. It’s the lack of sleep. 

The delicate flush on Allie’s cheeks as they talk. 

The wide, beautiful smile on those prominent lips.

God. If she can’t even say it in her head, how on earth is she ever going to say anything to Allie?

And if she does, how on earth will Allie’s answer be anything but a gentle, tactful no. And a hasty retreat. 

“Bea? You still with me? You’re actually shaking your head.” Franky sounds worried.

“Yeah. Sorry. It’s the drugs. They make me hazy.”

Franky nods, leaning over to gently hug Bea. “I’d better go grab Allie before Deb fully fuckin’ indoctrinates her in all things Disney. She should be with you in an hour or two.”

Bea nods. “Any chance you can put Deb on the phone for me when you get to her?” She asks.

“Course.” Says Franky, “she’ll be back visiting ya really soon too. We have an appointment at the Doc day after tomorrow to check she’s not infectious and then we’ll hopefully be in to annoy ya again. See ya, Bea.”  
————

Hours later, Allie rushes into Bea’s hospital room, gasping for breath.

Her hair is wild, her cheeks flushed. And for a second Bea thinks something bad has happened.

Allie collapses into the chair next to Bea’s bed, panting. “Sorry!” She gasps for breath before continuing, “Sorry! I had to run back home. Forgot my charger. And then Deb wanted three million hugs and someone to watch Toy Story with so it took a while to get back on the road. And my phone is dead so I couldn’t even text ya.”

Warmth toward Allie fills Bea up, coaxing a smile onto her face.

“Allie, it’s okay.” She says soothingly. “I assumed it was something like that.”

In truth she’d assumed worse. Pictures had formed in her head of Franky grilling Allie and somehow scaring her off.

She reaches out her hand, and joins it with Allie’s.

“You’re wonderful for spending time with Debbie, with me.” Bea says. “Don’t run yourself ragged.” She drops Allie’s hand, suddenly worried she’s being weirdly clingy. When Allie reaches for it again, Bea’s whole being flushes with delight.

“I’m not.” Says Allie, stroking Bea’s fingers gently. “I just really wanted to see you.”

“Not enough drug addled weirdos in your life?” Bea teases, but she’s smiling widely. And any colour that had left her cheeks since Allie grabbed her hand quickly returns.

“Not enough Bea in my life.” Says Allie back to her, without a note of teasing in her voice.

“And you don’t sound bad today.” Allie adds.

Bea grins, unable to stop herself turning an even more brilliant shade of red. “ I didn’t scream in pain when they checked my injuries again so they finally lowered my dose. The haze is clearing.”

“Oh no. Who will fall asleep during my stories now!” Allie teases lightly.

“That was ONE time!” Bea argues, more for the sake of it than any real reason or opinion. 

It’s strange, how fun it is to pretend-fight with Allie. How much happiness it brings her to be teased and to tease back.

Yeah. That one or two or maybe seven times I put you to sleep.” Says Allie. “Guess I need to raise my standard of story.”

“How will I sleep then?” Says Bea, squeezing Allie’s hand. 

“But seriously.” She says  
“Your stories are great, Allie. They usually involve my kid. Or your colleagues-.”

“-who are mostly dogs.” Allie interjects. “So always worth talking about.”

Bea smiles at Allie who smiles right back at her. It’s strange, the way her blue eyes make Bea feel both very calm and very hyper.

She realises she is staring and quickly lowers her eyes to their joined hands. She wonders if Allie wants to break her grasp. If she’s noticed that Bea’s hands sweat altogether more than anyone else in the world. 

God. She’s making this awkward. She needs to find a new topic, 

“Oh,” she blurts awkwardly, recalling her earlier conversation with Franky, “I have news!”

“Allie leans toward the bed, her hands squeezing at Bea’s.

“What?” She asks, her whole attention in Bea. It’s daunting, being the sole product of Allie’s focus but she also never wants it to stop.

“It’s nothing big she says, her gaze involuntarily veering away from Allie.

“It’s just I’m separated. From Harry. Twelve months and one day and I can get a divorce!”

Allie looks absolutely stunned and then delighted.

She springs up onto the bed so she’s next to Bea and gently leans against the older redhead, putting her arms gently around her. “Nothing big?” She says . “Bea, that’s huge. That’s fantastic. Well done!”

Allie’s arms are around her, Allie’s cheek is in the crook of her neck, and the sweet smell of vanilla and cherries is all around Bea. She can only smile, her mind wafting happily through this experience. 

“Thanks.” She finally says. “It’s really big for me too.” 

“It’s massive, she says into Allie’s sweet-smelling hair. “I feel so much closer to free than I have in years.”

Allie doesn’t respond, instead moving back slightly to look Bea in the eye.

Then she leans forward and plants a soft kiss on Bea’s cheek, before snuggling carefully back into the crook of her neck.

Bea stays absolutely still, not wanting to do anything that might rush this moment away. This perfect moment of rising hope.

But it doesn’t seem to be ending. Allie remains snuggled into her. So she relaxes a little, lifting a hand to stroke carefully through Allie’s soft, blonde hair.


	11. Hand me the wine and the dice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Franky and Allie chat. Franky visits Allie and Bea unexpectedly. Allie and Bea have a talk.
> 
> And... just stuff, you know?

It’s late when Allie arrives home, and Debbie has long-since been asleep.

Allie looks guttered when Franky tells her.

“Ah shit I meant to give her a goodnight cuddle. I’ll hang out with her tomorrow. Sorry Franky, I guess I got sidetracked…” she says

Franky shrugs, grinning at Allie’s uncharacteristically discomposed air. The Allie she is slowly getting to know strikes her as pretty chilled out. So she’s curious about the unsettled looking blonde she finds in her house tonight.

“How’s our girl?” she asks knowingly.

Allie bites her lip, looking thoughtful. “Better… I think. You know, she was almost playful tonight. Even with her dose cut way down. It was cute as…” she trails off, reddening at her own unconscious words.

“It was good. She’s getting there.” she says, trying for casual. “Missing Debbie like hell, though.”

Franky just looks smugly at her. “My best friend was cute as what now, Allie?”

Allie finds herself unsure quite what to say. Because this is all new for her as well, this absolute rush of affection and protectiveness she feels toward Bea, toward little Debbie.

Franky says “She likes you too, you know.”

Allie bites her lip, wishing she knew Franky was right. There have been moments where she’s thought Bea likes her, but equally, there have been many moments where she’s filled with doubt and hesitation. And Franky, is hardly a reliable witness. She could deny, she could go silent, but instead she asks what she wants to ask.

“Ya think?”

Franky laughs.” “I fuckin’ know, Novak. I have never seen her look at anyone the way she looks at you. And trust me, I’ve been trying to bring the lesbo out in her since we met. She has a massive fucking crush on ya.”

Allie wants very much to be quiet, be subtle, be anything but obvious, but her grin is impossible to hold in. Because she has spent days with Bea just hoping like hell to hear something like this. But Bea is so hard to read, so shy, so dauntingly fucking stunning and amazing.

And Bea’s been hurt badly before. Literally. Metaphorically. 

Allie sighs, and to Franky she looks almost...pained, “I hope so. I’m so into her. I’ll wait forever, I really will.”

“But…” she continues, looking uncertain.

“But what?” asks Franky shrewdly.

“Well...she's been through an awful lot. And I don’t want to be another bad thing that happens to her.”

Franky snorts. “Hate to sound like a cheeseball, but since I heard your voice down the phone telling me that asshole beat the shit outta her, you’ve been the exact opposite of that. I think you’re bloody good for her, Novak.”

Allie sighs. “I hope to hell you're right.” she says

. “Heart on your sleeve much, Allie?”

Allie shrugs, grinning. “Busted.” she says honestly.  
\--------

“Hello Bea,” Allie practically sings out as she hurries into the room. She cant help but exude hope this morning, feeling hearteningly optimistic after her chat with Franky the previous evening.

Hope makes her brave and she greets Bea the way she wants to for once, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Bea gasps in joyful surprise, and can’t help but inhale Allie’s sweet smell. Try to stay in that moment, in that closeness.

In a strange way, it makes her feel more hopeless, to be so close to Allie.

And yet never close enough.

“Hi Allie.” She smiles, because she can’t help but smile in Allie’s presence.

Allie is looking especially pretty, a black, off-the-shoulder sundress setting off her tanned skin and golden hair. Bea finds she can’t help but stare at Allie, feeling tongue tied.

God. She’s pathetic. Allie is beautiful, untouchably so. But she can't help but want to touch her. She cant help but want to try and be something with Allie.

“You look nice.” She says, internally lambasting herself for the stupid word. Who even says nice anymore? It’s such a small word for such a beautiful person.

Allie smiles widely, her cheeks reddening pleasantly. “Gotta keep up with present company.” She says.

Bea blinks at her. “I haven’t washed my hair in two days and I smell like a hospital. I think you win in the beauty stakes.” She says self-deprivation heavy in her voice.

Allie looks closely at Bea, wondering what’s bought on her low mood. “And you look gorgeous Bea. That’s just how your face is.” She comments, her hands finding Bea’s colder ones. “You okay Bea?”

Bea nods, "Just stuff, you know." she says, with an adorable half-smile. She does her best to push aside her fears to worry about later in favour of the feel of Allie’s hands in hers.

Gorgeous. She thinks. Does Allie really think that?

Probably not. She’s nice. A good person.

And Bea is a lot. Her past is a lot. Her wounds are a lot. Her inability to express a single fucking sensible sentence is Allie’s presence is a lot.

She feels stupid, hopeless tears prick her eyes and she wonders how she’s going to hide them from Allie.

“Hey,” says Allie, sitting gingerly on the edge of Bea’s bed and putting an arm around her. “Beautiful Bea, what’s the matter?”

Bea twitches at Allie’s words, her heart racing at the arm around her, the way Allie automatically nestles her head into Bea’s neck. The warmth of Allie in her arms. She can’t say a word, won’t say a word. But her tears are long forgotten.

She cannot help but reach out a hand to stroke Allie’s soft, golden hair.

\-----------------

 

Once Debbie is safely ensconced with Lizz, Franky decides to make the trek to the hospital. In theory there are a couple of things she wants to run by Bea about Debbie’s upcoming doctor’s appointment.

That’s her statement and she’s sticking to it.

In practice? Nah. She just wants a front row seat to stare at the brilliant new show that is Bea With A Crush. Or the one that’s on at her house all the time, Allie Fucking Adores Bea.

Seeing them both separately has confirmed what she first thought when she saw them together. That there’s something pretty fucking special going on.

Minus the ‘fucking’ because Allie’s so respectful its almost cute, If it wasnt so fucking nauseating.

And Bea...Bea’s tame as hell. 

And injured, thinks Franky, inwardly cringing and feeling unusually guilty for mocking (even in her own head) her best friend.

She should have guessed that Harry was abusive. But it never really occurred to her he was anything more than a run-of-the-mill asshole husband to her best friend . She’d never seen much of him, but in the moments when she did he would never quite meet her eye.

She’d just assumed he was an bigot (he was, so in a sense she was correct) and not having known Bea before she was with Harry, she’d assumed she’d always been jumpy and withdrawn. Always been scared of her own shadow.

Fucking dumb thing to think, as it turned out.

She rounds the last corner, nodding to the security guard and entering Bea’s room. 

Immediately, she grins, a wide, shit-eating grin.

It becomes evident very quickly that she is walking in on a private moment.

Allie is cuddled next to Bea on the narrow bed, an arm around Bea’s shoulder, her head nestled cozily into Bea’s neck. Bea looks ridiculously happy, one hand gently stroking through Allie’s hair. 

It’s pretty fucking adorable, actually.

They haven’t noticed her yet, too lost in each other. So after a long enough pause to take a mental photograph, and an actual pause to get out her phone and take a physical one, Franky clears her throat loudly. 

She’s amused to see that they still don’t notice her.

Fucking saps.

“Pretty fucking tame foreplay. Try using your tongue next time, blondie.” She comments.

They spring apart, Allie immediately retreating to the chair next to her bed. She looks flushed and happy. 

Bea…. well she just looks flushed. As fuck.

Allie’s hand reaches out and holds Bea’s, and Franky watches fascinated as Bea takes it, immediately relaxing by degrees.

“Franky. You can’t just say hello like a normal person?” Says Allie, while Bea tries to regain speech. 

“Boring as hell. Do I look like a fucking accountant to you?”

Allie snorts, squeezing Bea’s hand.

“That’s one thing I don’t think anyone would mistake you for.” She says.

“Anyway, we gonna talk about this?” Franky says, her hands darting rapidly between the two of them in a comical gesture.

“Your jazz hands? Nah, I’m good.” Says Allie, determinedly changing the subject. She can feel Bea squeezing the life out of her hand which she’s taking as a hint that she should stay off the topic of them.

“Seriously. What gives with the subject changing. Ya don’t fancy her, Allie?”

Allie stares at Bea, unsure what to say in Franky’s presence. She wants badly to respect Bea’s shyness, her need for privacy. But she’s worried Bea will get the wrong idea, will think that Allie’s silence means that she doesn't absolutely fucking LOVE her.

Which she does. Of course she does.

Silence fills the air like a bad smell.

Bea drops Allie’s hand, starting to straighten up and cross her arms before remembering that doing so hurts like hell right now. She hisses in agony as her broken rib makes itself known.

In seconds Allie is at Bea’s side, helping her to lie back down and pressing a kiss to her forehead, regardless of her audience. She smiles down at Bea, stroking her cheek gently before turning to face Franky.

“Give us a minute. No, screw that, give us an hour.” She says. Franky grins widely and Allie points a finger at her, sensing a Franky Doyle joke is in the offing.

“And don’t make any sex jokes about that or I’ll tell Deb you volunteered as tribute.... for a Disney Marathon.”

Franky releases a long, low whistle. “Well played, Novak.” She says. “Give her a tongue kiss from me.”

Bea blushes again, but Allie just rolls her eyes. 

Once Franky has departed, Allie sits back on the seat and takes Bea’s hands in hers. But before she can say a single word, Bea jumps nervously in.

“Sorry about Franky. For what she said. I don’t think you like me.” She says, her eyes darting wildly to Allie’s beautiful blue ones

Allie looks shocked, eyes warm on Bea in a way that makes her feel strange. “I don’t see how I couldn’t like you.” She says.

“I mean like-me, like-me.” Bea Awkwardly explains, her cheeks reddening at the stupid words she just said. “God, I sound like a fucking high school kid.” 

She cannot look at Allie. Cannot be in this moment, but she cannot leave it either. She flushes, feeling her heart thumping.

“I mean, why would you?” She says to her left knee. “I’m married, I’m older than you, and there’s so much about me that’s a mess. Why would you?” She doesn’t mean it to sound pleading. She hates the hope in her throat, hates squashing it down but knows she must.

There’s just no way that Allie likes her too. 

Allie smiles at Bea, a single finger stroking gently under Bea’s chin so the older redhead meets her steady gaze.

“Bea,” she says. “Didn’t want to say anything in front of your loud mouthed bestie but....course I fancy ya.” She finishes, her eyes meeting Bea’s, full of fear and bravery. “I have... the biggest crush on you.”

Bea blinks at Allie, utterly stunned and feeling so ridiculously happy she doesn’t know what to do with her face. She wants to reach out and touch Allie, but her hands are like lead at her sides.

“What-why? I mean, me too.” She says, finally finding it within herself to reach out and squeeze Allie’s fingers.

Her heart races wildly and Allie’s hand feels like an impossible, beautiful promise in hers, warm and soft. 

She’d hoped and hoped, but she never really thought Allie would like her. She’s unable to stop herself looking at Allie, even as her face is awash with red hot embarrassment.

“You fancy yourself as well?” Allie jokes, but her smile is broad and absolutely radiant. She reaches out a hand, running it carefully over one of Bea’s cheeks. “Can’t say I blame you. Have you met you?”

Bea smiles bashfully, her hand reaching up to cover Allie’s hand on her cheek. She can’t say a word, not a single thing. But she feels shock and joy bubbling inside of her at Allie’s words. Allie looks right back at her, smiling so beautifully that Bea’s heart escalates until she can hear it everywhere. It’s unbearable: it’s the loveliest feeling. She can’t do this, she must do this.

She smiles dumbly at Allie, feeling the warmth of the younger blonde’s hand under her own, the way it covers the flushed prominence of her cheekbone. The way it tingles all the way to her toes. The strange, addictive life force building inside her.

There’s so much she wants to say. About her baggage, about how beautiful Allie is, about how much it means that Allie took the risk that Bea couldn’t have and opened up to her. But none of that is what comes out.

“I like you too, Allie.” She husks quietly, looking shyly upward to meet Allie’s eyes.

“Allie leans over to press a kiss to the crown of Bea’s head. “And I like you, I mean, of course I like you.” She says, with the certainty of a person repeating their own name.

The question tumbled out of Bea In genuine confusion. “Why?” She asks, and she knows she sounds like a child, but she can’t seem to sound anything but plaintive . “Why do you.... like me?”

Allie’s hands cup Bea’s cheeks in hers, and suddenly her proximity is an utter distraction. It warms Bea through, the way Allie’s eyes and lips are so close to hers.

“You’re kind and strong. You’re an amazing mother. You’re really funny. You’re... God, you’re so beautiful.” She says, leaning forward to press her lips to the prominence of Bea’s cheekbone. “God, you’re so beautiful it’s distracting.” She says, pressing another kiss on Bea’s forehead.

Bea’s heart flutters, her insides a warm mess of fondness and the strange need she always has, to have Allie closer to her. 

She finds her hands reaching for Allie and pulling her forward, so they sit side to side on the bed.

“Is this- is it okay to-” But the words won’t come. She’s not really sure she even knows what she’s asking.

“Whatever it is, it’s fine.” Says Allie, meeting Bea’s eyes with her luminous blue ones.

I want to kiss you, Bea thinks, her eyes flicking between Alllie’s beautiful eyes and her lips. She can’t stop herself staring, wanting, craving. 

Again her body feels strange, weighted and not her own.

“I don’t know what to do.” She confesses, and she knows she sounds ridiculous. 

Allie’s lips press a kiss to the corner of her mouth and Bea sighs in shock, her hands finding their way to Allie’s face . Her skin is so soft and warm it’s like a dream.

Better than a dream.

Allie presses a kiss against Bea’s nose and Bea sucks in a breath.

“What do you want to do?” Says Allie, her voice warm and teasing. “Anything is fine. Nothing is fine. So long as it’s me and you.” she presses a kiss to the other corner of Bea’s mouth and it surges through Bea like electricity.

I want to kiss you, thinks Bea. God, do I want to kiss you. She can’t remember ever feeling this way. But it's gorgeous. Much like Allie’s lips.

She meets Allie’s eyes, and reaches out a hand, carefully to touch Allie’s cheekbone. Allie immediately leans into her touch, and feels unfamiliarly powerful, to have Allie want her touch. She stares at Allie, captivated, and watches the younger blonde’s tongue come out to moisten her lips.

Allie, who she so craves, is the one who closes the gap between them.

And then, finally, mercifully, they are kissing.

——-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I am the worst...but this is over two-thousand words so I had to end it somewhere.
> 
> This has been incredibly comforting to write. I'm leaning rather heavily on writing at present, and wow is it a fun distraction. Here's hoping that when life smooths out I continue to be this prolific... never have I written so much so rapidly!
> 
> This story is named for a recurrent line from the ALW musical, Aspects of Love, 'Hand me the wine, and the dice.' Waiting to use that title has pretty much written the fic up till this point. It is all about taking the risk of entering a new relationship, so you can see it might fit quite well with present circumstances...
> 
> Endless THANK YOUS for all your kind, magnificent, thoughtful, clever words. I think a lot of your comments actually made me pull a trigger earlier than I otherwise may have in this story. They really do mean the world to me so thank you so much to everyone who has commented or left kudos. I feel like you have written this! Your comments are vastly appreciated.


	12. (Someone told me it was) like finally waking up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a flashback to Bea trying to sleep after questioning/doubting/lambasting herself for kissing Allie’s hands.
> 
> And yeah. The kiss. Bit of a chat.
> 
> Nothing else really happens! But nothing happens in well over 2,000 words which is a new record for me... I hope it’s worth the wait!

**Very early in the morning, before the kiss**

********

********

Preoccupied as she is with Allie, Bea finds sleeping through the noisy hospital night shift an even more difficult proposition than usual.

Just the thought of Allie burns through her in a totally unfamiliar, but utterly delightful manner. And she marvels at her weird bravery in kissing Allie’s hands.

Oh god. She kissed Allie’s hands. Who the fuck does that? Does Allie now think she’s some kind of crazy freak with a hand fetish? 

Oh god. She loves Allie’s hands. Maybe she IS some kind of crazy freak with a hand fetish.

But then she thinks about the utter charm of Allie’s knowing smile. Her ample pink lips smiling beautifully. Then there is the irresistible tapering inward where her waist meets her hips, Those long, beautiful legs. Allie’s graceful, retreating back.

Her gorgeous, retreating butt. The beautiful rounded curve of it. The way Bea cant help but look.

Well, stare. And stare and stare.

Bea can feel herself flushing from head to foot, and she's grateful that nobody is here to see her weirdness. But as awkward as she feels, her mind spins radiantly around Allie, Allie, Allie.

Every single thing Allie does seems to only increase Bea’s preoccupation and make her come alive in a way she never has before. Allie smiles at her and her heart thumps, her blood boils and her skin tingles from head to foot. And then there's that delightful new need - the way she wants desperately to clench her legs together.

Bea sucks in a deep breath of air, gasping it out only seconds later. She hardly hears the staff try to placate a drunk man two rooms away from her. The only solace she can draw from her racing mind is that she probably doesn't have a crazy foot fetish.

Just a crazy Allie fetish.

But is that better? Allie is beautiful to a point where at times she is downright terrifying to look at. 

But… not looking at her would be such a loss.

She remembers the way Allie’s lips moved as she spoke yesterday, the delicate flush of her cheeks. And the way if Bea had more bravery and Allie was crazy enough to like Bea back, she’d want to draw Allie to her and just kiss her forever and ever.

 

Bea doesn't know why she’s so fixated with Allie. With her gorgeous, sumptuous lips. With kissing her. It’s not like she’s ever enjoyed kissing,

She thinks back to one of the last times Harry kissed her. The way it felt like a assault, and she was tensed throughout, measuring our time between his tongue in her mouth and his slobbering breaths and waiting to see what he’d take from her next.

But even with Harry’s bruising kiss fresh in her mind, Bea can’t help but let out a shaky sigh at the idea of Allie kissing her.

She inhales and exhales rapidly, wishing for morning. For Allie.

It’s going to be a long night.

**The kiss**

********

********

When their lips meet, it thrums through Bea, as profound of a relief as an exhale, yet utterly electric. Heat ripples through her, awakening her every nerve ending. On instinct she grips the back of Allie’s warm neck, relishing the feel of them, together. Their lips press against one another’s warmly, and she never, ever thought that lips touching lips could register like this - absolutely freaking everywhere. She can smell Allie’s scent, sweet and irresistible. And she wants this - only this - forever.

Allie has the softest, fullest lips, and she’s so incredibly warm in Bea’s arms that it feels like she is light itself. Bea can feel herself violently trembling at the rush of it all. And she never, never wants this feeling to stop.

Allie pulls back, her eyes concerned. “You okay, beautiful? She says, her fingers reaching out to softly wipe tears from Bea’s face.

Wonderful, Bea thinks, her heart sinking to somewhere lower than ground level. My dream girl kisses me and I weep all over her. I’m sure she’ll be really into me now.

“I’m..just happy.” She says, her voice husky and reed-thin with emotion. “Happy,” she repeats in a stronger voice. She reaches out a timid finger to stroke the delicate shell of Allie’s ear, the softness of her burnished blonde hair. “You’re really pretty.” she says shakily, before she can suppress the words. Because everything about this is overwhelming. But she wants more, more, more.

Allie smiles so joyfully that Bea feels dizzy with happiness. When Allie leans over to kiss the tear tracks as they run down Bea’s face, the gentility of it is the loveliest, most caring thing Bea has ever felt. She feels muddled as hell, warmed and lulled by Allie’s kisses on her face, but desperate to kiss her lips again.

Allie leans back to meet Bea’s eyes, an amazing smile on her face.

“I’m glad you’re happy.” She says, licking her utterly tempting lips “you make me so happy, Bea. Bea smiles back at Allie, licking her lips and Allie huffs out a breath that sounds a little strained. 

“God Bea, you’re so sexy!” Allie murmurs.

Bea flushes, feeling both irresistibly flattered and utterly perplexed at Allie’s words - directed at her plain, blighted self. She’s always thought that she was a person who didn't have much to her. Barely sexual, she shied from Harry’s attentions even before he got rough, never really feeling that thing that everyone said made sex and relationships amazing. And she was definitely not sexy. Frigid and uptight, more like.

Faintly, Bea remembers Harry’s voice. “Frigid fucking bitch. Move your hips for fucks sake.” but it doesnt move her, it barely registers.

Because Allie - all things Allie - seem to belong in a completely different zip code.

Instead, Allie’s word lingers, and the particular sensual quality of her voice as she said the word. Sexy, she said. About Bea! (like everything she says) is said with certainty. Bea knows Allie truly must think that she’s-

Well. that. 

The feeling of being seen that way blooms warmly within Bea, and she finds herself leaning into Allie’s touch as her long-stemmed, slender fingers hands stroke through Bea’s hair. She watches Allie slowly bite her lip and It flickers something unfamiliar and wondrous to life within her. On instinct, Bea puts her hands either side of Allie’s face, and pulls her in for another kiss, her tongue smoothing over Allie’s lips. She can hear Allie gasp and she loves that she can elicit that gorgeous sound. Her hands leave Allie’s cheeks and smooth down to her upper back, sitting at the line of her t-shirt begins and stroking the soft line that contrasts between skin and fabric. She can feel Allie smiling against her lips and it’s such a lovely sensation that it makes tremble her all the more.

She hopes Allie knows this time that it’s prompted by nothing but joy. But God. Could she be more awkward.

When Allie’s lips leave Bea’s there’s a faint popping sound and Bea finds herself flushing and avoiding eye contact. Was that her, maybe? Holding on when Allie wanted to let her go? Bea starts In surprised when Allie’s lips meet hers again and feels Allie again smiling into the kiss. She smiles into it too, and feels the way her need for Allie builds like a wave inside her. She can’t stop shaking, is running out of breath, but oh, who cares when it feels this good.

When they finally break apart, she can hear her panting breaths, harsh and loud in the subdued hospital background that she’d forgotten all about until just now. She feels a tangle of panic pull tight in her chest at at just how loud she sounds, how inexperienced it must make her sound to Allie.

Allie presses their foreheads together even as Bea is still trying desperately to slow her breathing and it’s only then that Bea discovers that Allie is breathing just as harshly as her. Somehow that dislodges her fears and she locks eyes with Allie.

It should be uncomfortably close, with their foreheads pressed together, their eyes nearly crossing as they meet. But instead it’s a relief to see Allie’s beautiful eyes up close.

“Wow.” Says Allie, her hands coming to rest warmly either side of Bea’s face as she leans back. “Bea...wow.”

Bea smiles uncertainty at her, her eyes hopeful.

“I was... it..they..were okay?”

Allie huffs out a half-laugh, half-groan, pressing a smacking kiss to Bea’s left cheek. “You were amazing.” She utters, impulsively leaning back in to press another kiss to Bea’s lips. Bea stares at her, unable to stop the dopey grin from emerging on her face.

“Oh.” Bea murmurs, her cheeks aflame and her smile escaping despite her best efforts. “I....Good... I... never had kisses like that.”

I didn’t know they could be like that, she thinks.

Allie picks up Bea’s hand, pressing a kiss to it with something like reverence.

“Me neither.” She says. “But” she winks at Bea and suddenly Bea wants to kiss her again, right now. “I’ve never kissed you before now so maybe that’s why.”

Bea flushes, feeling like she might burst from joy. She itches to reach out and touch Allie, to kiss her again. She smiles ever wider, aware she probably looks ridiculous.

She gestures to her face. “Sorry. I don’t know why I can’t stop smiling.”

Allie’s laughs. “Oh Bea, ya aren’t alone in that. You remember yesterday? When you kissed my hands?

Bea nods shyly, the moment clear and brilliant as a summers day in her mind. 

“I-I can’t believe I did that.” She confesses. “It’s so unlike me. But-“ she continues, marvelling at her own bravery “I really wanted to.” 

She cannot meet Allie’s eyes, her face on fire at her admission. And then she feels Allie’s hands smoothing down her flushed face.

“Brave Bea,” Says Allie, her voice soft and incredibly tender. 

Bea looks up to meet Allie’s eyes as She leans over and presses a light kiss to her lips. Bea can’t help but hold Allie’s head gently in place, elongating their kiss. Allie gasps a little,and Bea’s heart hammers at her strange, new power.

When they finally part, they’re both breathless once again. But for Bea, its a beautiful discovery. A new kind of breathless.

Not breathless from fear of not getting dinner on the table before Harry loses his shit, not breathless from having the crap kicked out of her stomach again and again. Instead she is gloriously, joyously breathless from the joy of kissing until there’s no air left in her lungs..

She pulls Allie into an impulsive hug, wanting to feel their bodies against one another. To chase that beautiful feeling a little further.

It’s then that her broken ribs and bruised stomach make themselves known, and she actually moans in agony. Allie darts back, looking pained. She presses a kiss to Bea’s cheek before carefully helping Bea back into a more comfortable position.Her hands flutter over Bea, gentling her, and it makes Bea forget the pain, because she’s never been…. Well, doted on.

“Oh Bea, I’m so sorry babe. I got over excited...You’re, God you’re just my dream girl and I’m so sorry. I need to get better at controlling myself around you.” Allie says ruefully, her face contrite and Bea finds that despite the lingering pain she feels, she is laughing.

‘“Other way around” she says. I need to get better at controlling myself around you,”.

Allie smiles. “Well thank God.” She says, “I’m really relieved it isn't just me.” Her voice is so kind and sweet that Bea has to fight the urge to hug her again.

“Allie that was all on me. I just wanted to, well...you know, to feel...”

“Feel my body against your body?” Says Allie, grinning archly.

Bea drops her eyes from Allie’s, heat surging through her. She can't do anything except nod bashfully. “Yeah.” She says quietly.

Allie’s hand reaches out, gently taking Bea’s hand in hers, kissing it again and again,

Bea smiles down at their joint hands, adoring the tingles that emanate from her body at the contact with Allie. There’s this feeling she doesn’t quite understand.but she thinks maybe she’s grateful. And she feels a strange need to communicate it, stupid with words and feelings as she is.

“Thanks Allie. For starting things. I... really like you. But I wouldn’t have.”

“You kinda did, actually,” Says Allie, winking at Bea in a way that turns her insides molten. “Super old school, but hand kisses definitely do it for me.”

Bea husks our a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I mean we did- the, you know.”

Great, thinks Bea. Alie kisses me and I immediately take a page out of Debbie’s vocab book to describe it. 

Only Debbie would be waaaay more fucking articulate.

Allie just winks at Bea again. “You mean the kiss,” she clarifies, her lips gorgeous and tempting.

Bea flushes, nodding wordlessly.

“God you’re cute as hell when you get all shy.” says Allie.

“Anyway,” the younger blonde continues, her eyes on Bea’s flushed pink cheeks, “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you.”

Bea looks up at her, confounded. She remembers being stilted, awkward and having her social skills speedily outstripped by her six-year-old. She doesn't remember doing anything remotely...kissable.

“Why?” She says, in genuine bemusement.

Allie looks surprised, and then she smiles at Bea, her eyes sweeping over her in the oddest way. Like she’s something to behold.

“Honestly Bea, do you not own a mirror?” She finally says. “You’re drop dead gorgeous.”

Bea stares at the flawless woman before wonders if it would be tactless to inquire if Allie has had her eyes checked recently.

She suspects not. But seriously? Allie is without question the most beautiful woman she’s ever laid sight on. How the hell is it that even notices stupid, shy Bea.

“I... could say the same about you.” Bea finally says, aware her cheeks are sunburn-red. “You’re...so pretty.”

God. Why the fuck is Bea stuck on that freaking tiny word, pretty. It doesn't do Allie any justice. Why the fuck cant she just call Allie want she is - beautiful.

But Allie smiles at Bea with such joy that Bea cannot help but smile back. “When we first met I was completely charmed by your face, by your gentle joy at your daughter’s happiness, by...everything about you to be honest.”

She smiles. “And then you opened your mouth and started talking and...”

“You changed your mind?” Bea says, self-deprecatingly.

Allie shakes her head vehemently. “No. Every word you said made me like you more. Boy, Bea, you gotta learn to take a compliment.”

“Unspeakably awkward does it for you, huh?” Bea tries to joke. But she’s aware it sounds more like a plea.

Please like me. Please let older, plainer me be enough for you. Even though you’re young and beautiful and I’m a frigging awkward mess.

Allie shakes her head. “You’re shy.” She concedes, her voice circling the word shy like it’s a beautiful, desirable thing. “I love that about you. It makes your words more worth hearing. And you make me laugh.” She continues. “Plus, she says, her eyes teasing “you’re very nice about my hair when you’re high on drugs.”

Bea laughs, a snort breaking through mud-chuckle. She flushes. “Sorry.” She says, horrifically embarrassed. “Changed your mind yet?”

Allie just shakes her head, pressing a kiss to Bea’s cheek. “Nah, I just think you’re cuter than ever now.” She says.

Bea takes a deep breath, summoning every bit of bravery that Allie has given her. She wants to tell Allie how lovely she is. And she wants to do it in a word deserving of Allie.

“Alllie?” she says

Allie looks over, and Bea finds herself robbed of breath at her flawless blue eyes gorgeous cheekbones, sun-kissed skin and those sultry, generous lips.

Finally, the words pour forth.

“I think you’re incredibly kind and absolutely beautiful.” Bea says.

Allie turns bright red, her smile absolutely blinding. Her hands find Bea’s cheeks, pressing kiss after kiss onto Bea’s waiting lips, rewarding her bravery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hai writers block! Just when I thought you’d left the neighbourhood. Once I realised I needed the flashback to give the moment that followed some contrast and payoff it came together nicely.
> 
> This chapter lingered at the 1,000 word mark for centuries (might be a slight exaggeration). But finally, mercifully, it is done.
> 
> I really hope it is worth the wait. Please let me know I will be ever so grateful. Thank you for your amazing, charming and sometimes surprisingly long comments. They are utterly cherished and appreciated. And you are all amazing, wonderful people for being so encouraging.
> 
> This is the longest chapter I have written in forever. I think it tallied in at about 2,680 words.
> 
> Title is a derivation of a line from ‘Copper and Malachite’ by Ben Sollee. I believe I’ve used his lyrics as a title before in my other fic, but hey, recycling is very trendy (and increasingly neccisary) these days...
> 
> Please, please let me know what you think!!!
> 
> LL


	13. I know your image of me (is what I hope to be)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Allie hang out. And some other stuff.
> 
> We also see Franky, Bridget and Debbie in this chapter.

Bea’s not sure when they started kissing again, but she can’t stop luxuriating in the hazy joy of it for long enough to give it further thought. Allie’s lips are hot on hers, her hands stroking softly at Bea’s thighs, and every inch of Bea feel warmed, alert and deliciously flushed.

Kissing is the nicest feeling, the most luxuriously delicious thing she's ever done for herself. So nice- so...

When Allie’s hands smooth slowly up her leg the word sexy echoes through her because she feels frustrated and hot and just - alight in Allie’s arms. Anytime their lips meet she gets braver, wants to pull her closer. Wants more, more, more.

She hears herself utter ‘oh God!’ into Allie’s mouth. Consumed by Allie’s gorgeousness, by the way the word sexy fits her every movement. It's never a word that Bea considered applying to any experience she’s had, 

but... there isn't another word.

Because Kissing Allie is so, so sexy.

Not that she could ever tell her that. The very thought of it makes her cheeks flush anew even as she continues pressing her lips against Allie’s with renewed fervour.

When they finally break apart, Allie’s hands immediately find Bea’s cheeks.

“Have I told you lately you’re my dream girl?” Allie says, her smile soft and lovely, her breathing still laboured from their kisses. Bea smiles shyly, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer fact that she’s in this moment with Allie, and that she’s still so close, so easy to reach. 

She’s felt hyper alert in the past before, following Harry’s every move and feeling it prickle with fear and sweat on the back of her neck. Waiting for him to lurch at her. Always to run. 

But this? This is in a completely different postcode. Now she just feels ready to sink into the moment.

She’s alert to Allie’s presence, but alert with warmth and tingles, alert with foolish smiles. Right from their first meeting, it has been that way. The smallest things feel like the biggest things. Allie entering the room, the soft relief of her breaths. Her amazing warmth and the gorgeous smell of her. And anytime she’s near her the air feels charged with electric potential. With warmth and light and Allie’s daunting, beautiful smile and warm, slender hands.

Flustered and speechless, Bea’s eyes retreat toward her lap, distracted from their path by Allie’s chest, which moves noticeably with her every breath, her breasts rounding out beneath her simple black tee. She’s never noticed...that... on another woman before. But now it feels like its all she can see. She knows she’s staring but somehow it is utterly impossible to look away. The heat of her thoughts zips through Bea and she can’t help but suck in a distracted, laboured breath.

It’s all a bit much. And yet she wants more, more, more of this beautiful thing that is her and Allie.

Allie’s leans over to press a kiss to Bea’s cheek, her nose, her brow before pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Bea loves the way Allie’s hands cradle her face, can’t help but feel cherished when those soft fingers are on her cheeks. When they part again Allie looks at her with a unmistakable admiration..

You make me feel as beautiful as you are, Bea longs to say. But somehow she cannot form the words. Apparently weighing into a conversation the way that normal, non-awkward people do daily is well out of Bea’s reach. She looks briefly at Allie, wondering if she’s bored, but Allie just smiles at her.

Strangely, she doesn’t seem to mind Bea’s reticence. She just looks happy.

“It’s really nice being able to touch you.” She utters, her voice low and syrupy. “I couldn’t stop thinking about touching you.”

There's something in Allie’s voice that soothes warmly through Bea, loosening her mouth.

“I - I like when you touch me.” She husks softly. “I mean - I really, really like it.”

Allie lifts Bea’s hands to hers, pressing kisses on them. “Oh me too, beautiful Bea.” She says.  
She leans over so her lips are next to Bea’s ear, her hot breaths against the shell of Bea’s ear impossibly distracting and utterly sensual.

“It makes me feel lit up when we touch.” she whispers, and it tingles through Bea, that those words are for her alone.

Bea flushes, for once not from embarrassment. It’s the way Allie’s words send heat through every inch of her. She represses the strange urge to cross her legs, instead reaching out to cradle the back of Allie’s neck, bringing her in for a slow, drugging kiss.

“God are you good at that.” Says Allie, her voice low and warm.

“God, are you nice.” Bea rasps back, inwardly cringing as she takes in her own words.

Nice? It’s so stupid, the pre-school half-words she keeps feeding Allie. Where have her brains gone? Why can’t she just say the words that are inside her. Why cant she just call Allie…

Stunning, beautiful, sexy.

Sexy.

But Allie doesn’t seem scornful, doesn’t seem anything but delighted as she smiles widely at Bea.

Her hands smooth through Bea’s hair and down her arms. before moving back down to stroke at her knees and thighs. “I love your legs,” murmurs Allie, her hands running up and down them in a way that makes Bea’s eyes cross a little.

I love your body, Bea wants to say, but the words won't come so she leans in to kiss Allie again.

———

An hour-and-a-half has passed since she left Bea and Allie making doe-eyes at each other. Franky sits in a nearby cafe, bored out of her damn mind. She’s determined to give Allie and Bea a little more time to do whatever the tame, Bea-sponsored version of hooking up is.

She hopes it's not just talking. Not that she wants to walk in on them dry humping or anything. Although, she has about a million threesome innuendos she can use to turn Bea four shades of puce in that unlikely event...

But nah. Allie’s really respectful, and Bea’s new to lady-boners, won't know what the fuck to do. Except make doe-eyes at Allie when she thinks nobody is looking.

(which everybody is, of course. It’s fucking fascinating to see Bea into someone.)

Franky wonders if she should try and give Bea some sex advice. She knows for a fact that Bea would be far too fucking mortified to take in a single thing.

But it might be entertaining...

She grins, checking her watch. An hour and a thirty-three minutes. Jesus, they better fucking be tongue kissing by now or she’s going to make Allie reimburse her for the coffees. Seeking distraction, she gets out her phone and places a quick call to Bridget.

“Gidge, it’s me-” she begins.

“Hi Franky.” Bridget says. “Great news-”

“You’re not wearing any underwear?” Franky deadpans.

Bridget laughs, but her voice is lower when she answers. It’s the voice that’s for Franky alone and God does she fucking love it.

“Slightly more G rated, Franky.” says Bridget. “It’s Debbie. She has the all clear! I was thinking we’d bring her by after an early dinner tonight?”

“Yes!” says Franky, punching the air with delight. “Bea will be stoked.”

“How is she today?” asks Bridget. Are you in with her now?”

“Nah. But if Allie plays her cards right she might be by now.” says Franky cheekily.

“Franky!” says Bridget, her voice reproving but tinged with curiosity.

”What made you decide to give them some time? That’s...uncharacteristically sweet of you.”

Franky laughs. “Walked in on them cuddling like shy, adorable teenagers.”

“Allie was a shy, adorable teenager?” says Bridget doubtfully. Allie strikes her as a streetwise survivor with a massive soft spot for Bea and Debbie, a fiercely loyal heart and an adaptable nature. 

But definitely not a shy, adorable teenager. Bridget can already tell that she’s seen a lot in her life.

‘“Okay, Bea was a shy, adorable teenager,” Franky amends. “Allie just... looked so fucking smug you’d swear she just got some.”

“It’s so sweet.” Says Bridget, bypassing Franky’s crudeness.. “They’re clearly crazy about eachother.”

“Yeah well if they could fuckin’ hurry it up. There’s shit all to do here except judge all the pretentious turtlenecked men in tortoiseshell glasses writing their fuckin’ masterpieces.”

Bridget laughs lightly. “Remind me never to go to a Starbucks with you.” she comments lightly before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Franky sighs, staring bleakly out of the window. “You better at least fucking kiss her.” she mutters to herself.

 

_______________________

When Franky returns (an uncharacteristically respectful two hours later) They do not notice her. 

They’re...distracted.

Well, thinks Franky, smiling widely. That’s more like it.

She’s genuinely shocked by how not-tame it is. Not that anyone is dry-humping or missing articles of clothing or anything.... but they’re full-on making out.

Allie’s hands are on Bea’s thighs (less tame than she might have expected given Allie’s careful, respectful way around Bea), Bea’s hands cupping Allie’s cheeks. Franky can see that Allie has positioned herself carefully so she completely avoids contact with Bea’s wounded middle section.

It doesn’t look all that comfortable. But that’s textbook Allie. Franky has lost track of the thoughtful things she’s seen Allie do for Bea and her daughter lately.

It’s fucking cute, actually. Not that she’d ever tell Allie that. 

“God Bea, you’re just so sexy.” Allie murmurs into Bea’s mouth. 

“Much better foreplay, lesbos. And what was that you called Bea? Sexy? How’s it going, sexy?” Franky says.

They both start, their lips coming apart with an audible pop and Bea darts backward like she’s been stung, flushed and shocked-looking.

Allie looks remarkably composed, a little smug even. So Franky turns to stare at Bea, who looks mortified.

“Hiya sexy,” she says, repeating the word again and blowing Bea an exaggerated, smacking kiss.

Bea turns roughly the colour of a beetroot, her mouth goldfishing uncertainty at the sheer embarrassment of the situation.

“Fuck off.” She rasps. But it’s quiet.

“Nah, sexy. Fuckin’ gettin’ it on, I would say.”

Rattled, Bea reaches unthinkingly for Allie’s hand, winding her fingers between Allie’s warm, slender ones and trying desperately to slow her erratic breathing. She finds herself muted. Unable to say a damn word in response to Franky’s teasing.

Franky sees the way Bea’s hand goes for Allie’s. Bea who used to stutter and stammer at even the suggestion of physical contact is seeking out Allie. She grins. Who knew joining team lesbian would turn her into such a fucking sap.

“Leave her alone. Franky.” Allie, who looks flushed and delighted. “She is sexy and I am going to tell her that. But I don’t think she likes you that way, sorry.”

Franky laughs. “Lady boner much, blondie?” She says.

Bea gapes, mortified at Franky’s. Lady boner. Jesus. Franky should come with a dedicated censorship team. And a warning label.

Allie leans over, her lips next to Bea’s ear. 

“The Queen Bea of lady boners.” She whispers, the words for them alone.

Bea lets out a shocked, husky chuckle, delighting in Allie’s words. Her flush comes with a broad smile this time. And a fierce, low heat in her belly.

“So, you two?” Says Franky.

Allie squeezes Bea’s hand, aware that Franky’s words will make her brain goes into overdrive. She wants to say something to reassure Bea, but she doesn't want to speak for her.

Bea can feel her heart beating everywhere at being confronted with this. She knows what she wants. But fuck, they never actually discussed this. She has no clue what that conversation would even sound like. She guesses it would need more complex, multi-faceted words than ‘nice’ so she’s probably screwed.

Allie’s hand squeezes hers, bringing her slowly back to the moment.

“If Bea wants that then hell yes, us two.” She says softly. Her eyes are lowered to her lap and Bea is surprised to see that she’s shaking lightly..Bea finds there’s nothing she wants more in this moment than Allie’s beautiful blue eyes on hers. She runs a finger softly over Allie’s hand and the blonde looks up and meets her eyes immediately.

“Course I do.” She says quietly, her heart accelerating. And she’s shocked by the joyful, relieved smile that Allie breaks into. Delighted that Allie seems to want this as much as her.

Franky lets them stare at each other for a good eleven seconds before she loses patience. 

“Okay lesbos, she says, clicking her fingers in front of their eyes to pull them back into the present moment.

“Time to stop eye fucking for a second. I have good news about Debbie…”

\----------- 

“Mumma!!!” Debbie charges into the room and throws herself into her mother’s arms. Allie can see Bea reflexively cringing with pain, even as she hugs Debbie against her, schooling her features into something that doesn't look pained.

“Hi Deb,” she says. And suddenly the pain, the lost time, the hours of not hearing question after question from her daughter’s perfect, original, beautiful brain melt away. She has Debbie back. Her face is still hidden from Debbie, wrapped in her daughter's arms as she is, but there's no pain anymore, just joy.

Debbie is fine. She’s healthy and happy and still approaching hugs like a pro-wrestler. Tears fill her eyes and drip down her face, but they are happy tears. It’s such a relief, having Debbie here at last.

She doesn't notice Allie come toward her, her eyes unfocused behind a sheen of tears. But when she feels warm fingers gently wiping away the tears, she knows that it’s simply Allie being Allie and it fill sher with a new kind of joy, one weighty with gratefulness and affection. As the haze clears, Allie moves from an indistinct blur into startling, beautiful reality. She stares at her for a second, wondering if her eyes were always this blue, her cheeks always this rosy, her face always this stunningly beautiful.

Allie smiles and smiles and Bea wonders if she looks ridiculous, wet-cheeked and red-eyed as she probably appears. But there's nothing but the characteristic warmth of Allie. Directed at her.

When she remembers herself, remembers that when a human smiles at you you’re not supposed to just gape back at them. So she mouths a ‘thank you’ at Allie.

Allie winks at her, and it hums warmly through her, that face, making that expression. That heart caring this much.

It feels too good to be real. But everytime she looks up, Allie is still there, still utterly engaging. 

Still giving a shit about her. 

Her trail of thought is interrupted when Franky and Bridget round the door, out of breath and she gently extracts Debbie from around her neck and positions her gently on her knee.

“Sorry Red.” Pants Franky, out of breath. “Someone was in a hurry to see you.” ”Thank fu-goodness she made it here safely, the little grommet took off like a rocket!”

Bea looks down at her daughter, her curly ,tangle hair and heart shaped face, the light in her eyes and the long, skinny limbs and tries really hard to look sterns.

“What do you say, Debs?” she says in what she hopes is a stern voice.

Debbie looks surprised, like she doesn't really recall breaking the rules. “I’m sorry Franky and Bridget. I did miss Mumma.” she continues, turning to face Bea. “ I made you lots of pictures. But I left them in the car. I was too ‘cited to see you, mumma.

“I so get that, baby.” says Bea. “I was so excited when Franky told me you were all better.” 

“Me too! I missed you to the moon and back. mumma.” she says, a beautiful smile on her face. Bea smiles back widely, and she knows that the tears are not far away. Because this saying has been their thing for years now.

It started around Debbie’s third Birthday, when she was obsessed with other countries. Their names, the fact it was day and night at different times, the sheer distance from where they were.

It became a habit to say “I love you to Norway and back” or “I love you to Canada and back.” and lasted well into Debbie’s next passion, which happened to be space. Bea’s not really sure why they never moved to planets, sticking to the moon. But she loves that tradition, loves that it’s theirs.

“I love you to the moon and back.” Bea says back tenderly tucking Debbie’s curls behind her ears. 

“Now tell me, what have you been upto”

Debbie’s eyes light upl. “I puked on Allie!” she says. “Like, all over her. But she’s still my friend. She did tell me that we have to be friends now because I’ve puked on her. She called it…” she frowns thoughtfully. “Oh! A shared parent!” she says triumphantly.

Allie laughs softly, her cheeks pink.

Bea can't help but stare at her rosy red cheeks. She looks beautiful when she blushes which must be fun. Bea usually just looks severely sunburnt. 

“A shared experience.” corrects gently. “And you didn't puke all over me, Munchkin. Mostly just my shirt. Which was my own damn fault, anyway. Some people should never wear white.”

“But you look beautiful in white.” Bea finds herself saying, and then flushes, horrified. What the fuck? Who just blurts that kind of sappy nonsense?

She knows it's true, of course it is true. Something about Allie's fair hair and blue eyes makes her look just gorgeous in white. And then there's the fact that white is slightly see-through...

But anyway. Dignity. Not being a sap. Not scaring Allie away...

“Sorry.” she says to her hands. “It’s the drugs.They make me say weird stuff.” She peeks out from behind her hair at Allie, who looks surprised and thrilled, her cheeks pink.

Franky grins broadly, eyeing Bea’s saline bag. “Saline makes you say weird shit now? Salt and water?”

“Franky-” Bridget valiantly tries. And fails. 

“I’ve had half a tramadol!” Bea adds petulantly, but she knows she’s exposed herself.

And the Tramadol was ages ago. But she’ll keep that fact to herself.

“What else does Allie look hot in, Red?” continues Franky. “ How’s she look in her birthday suit?

“Allie looks pretty in all colours.” says Deb nonchalantly, unaware of the charged atmosphere in the room.And her Birthday’’s in September, same as mine. She turns to her mother in search of an answer

"Is there a special suit for Birthdays?” she queries.

Debbie's not sure if she is more puzzled by her mother’s wordless, red-faced embarrassment or Franky's raucous laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I know this took forever. Life did it's 'busy' thing and I was still writing, but found I never had the time to get it quite right. I hope it came out okay. Please let me know. Thank you so much for you endlessly amazing feedback, and for telling me when I make mistakes. It is incredibly, whole-heartedly appreciated.
> 
> Song is by the Carpenters, A Song For You. Pretty much grew up on them so it's one of my favourites. And it suits these two just beautifully.


	14. Walk with me (and my world is filled with light)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea worries, Allie reaassures. It’s hopefully kinda cute. Oh. And There’s a meeting about Bea.

Bea sits in bed, worrying her lip beneath her teeth. Waiting.

There’s supposed to be a meeting later today about her progress. With Doctors, social workers, herself and Allie. About when she can go home. It’s been two and a half long months and she wants to be out of this place so badly that she feels almost sick with hope.

And hopelessness.

She doesn’t want to be a burden to her friends. Or to Allie. She’s still half-convinced that at some point Allie will realise that this is all too much and just leave her behind. Find someone who she didn’t meet because disaster struck and she happened to be there.

Bea assumes that while she’s in hospital security must be easier. It’s the same group of guys, probably hospital or police security. And Bea imagines it’s easy for them to fit it around their normal beat. She knows that her departure from the hospital will likely end their responsibility to her. Make her more of a target.

But God does she want out of this place. She wants her daughter with her again.

And Allie. She wants Allie. 

On the longer, more boring days when her wounds itch and the beeping drives her nuts, she finds herself craving Allie’s presence. The younger blonde’s regular appearances are what she holds onto.

What she needs.

But she doesn’t want to put anyone in any danger. And it might not be as safe outside the hospital.

It’s late afternoon when Allie finally bounds into Bea’s room, lugging a rolling suitcase. She moves it out of the way, to the corner of the room before plopping herself down next to Bea and leaning in to press a kiss to her lips.

“Hi Bea-utiful” She says, her hands coming up to stroke Bea’s cheeks before she leans in to press a second kiss to her lips.

Bea smiles shyly at Allie’s face when their lips part, chuckling with embarrassment and pleasure at the silly, flattering nickname. 

It still doesn’t feel real, the strange reality of having Allie in her life, kissing her. More to the point, wanting to kiss her. It feels like impossible good fortune. Like it can’t possibly last.

As Allie leans in to give her a longer, heavier kiss, she can’t help but smile, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks as well as the customary fluttering awareness that Allie’s presence always brings. When they part she smiles nervously at Allie, a little embarrassed by how wordless and idiotic she feels.

“Hi.” She finally rasps. “You look nice.” She adds, unable to stop herself staring.

Allie doesn’t look ‘nice.’ She looks absolutely fucking gorgeous. Her skin is golden, her fair hair loose around her face and her eyes that startling, iridescent blue. Her shoulders are bare and golden above her strapless blue sundress and Bea is trying really hard not to notice them.

And salivate.

But she does. Oh, she does.

Embarrassed self-consciousness hits her like a tonne of bricks. Allie looks stunning. And Bea is sitting there in a hospital regulation gown with pasty skin and unwashed, messy hair. Smelling like a hospital.

She really doesn’t know what Allie sees in her. And she’s worried that even being in her presence might make Allie rethink...

Well, everything.

But Allie doesn’t seem at all perturbed by Bea’s appearance. “And you look gorgeous as always.” She says softly, reaching for Bea’s hand and pressing tingling kisses to her knuckles. “How goes life on the ward?”

“Hmm?” Says Bea, hardly noticing Allie has spoken. Her mind consumed with what Allie would do if she reached out and touched her bare, golden shoulder. If that’d be okay. 

But she can’t do it. Allie’s sitting there looking like a freaking supermodel and Bea knows that she looks... well... like shit.

Allie’s hands stroke at Bea’s cheeks, bringing her back to herself. “You in there Bea-utiful?” She asks gently.

Bea looks into Allie’s beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just worrying. Just stuff, y’know.” She says.

Allie’s hand reaches out to stroke Bea’s curls and even though Bea knows her hair is a mess, that she is a mess, she finds herself leaning into the younger blonde’s touch.

“What’s worrying ya?” Allie asks softly.

Bea shrugs. “It’s stupid.” She says dismissively.

Allie shakes her head emphatically. “nothing you say or think is stupid.” She argues. 

Bea throws her a doubtful, crooked smile. “Didn’t I once spend an hour explaining hair pigmentation to you?” She says dubiously.

Allie grins, looping her arm gently around Bea’s shoulder. “You had drugs assisting you.” She utters. “it was adorable.” She continues softly. 

Bea snorts. And then wishes fervently that she hadn’t just snorted. She’s never heard a sound like that come out of Alllie’s beautiful mouth.

“Everything you do is either cute or sexy.” Allie continues, not appearing to have minded Bea’s snort. “Usually both.” She adds.

Her hand hand comes out to rest gently atop Bea’s shoulder, stroking at some exposed skin where the older redhead’s hospital gown has slid down her arm. Bea loses her train of thought when Allie’s soft hands stroke over her bare, warm skin. She hisses out a shocked, delighted breath, her eyes locking with Allie’s lips.

“Can you tell me?” Say Allie’s lips, pale pink and utterly irresistible.

Bea blinks. “Huh.” She says, her eyes drawn irresistibly to Allie’s lips.

Allie pulls back a little, and Bea can see from the smile that Allie tries and fails to hide that she’s been busted staring. But she doesn’t comment on it. Instead murmuring “can you tell me what’s worrying you, sweetheart?”

Bea laughs, secreting the word sweetheart into some warm, precious chamber of her heart for later attention. “I don’t remember what’s bothering me.” She admits. “You distracted me.” 

Allie laughs with delight, the freest sound. And then she reaches over to run a hand down Bea’s cheek. “Not just me, then. Bea you look gorgeous today.”

Bea looks surprised and words tumble from her before she can stop them.

“Me? You look so beautiful it’s daunting!” She flushes, not having meant to say anything like that, averting her eyes. When she looks back up at Allie she’s smiling a pleased, surprisingly self-conscious smile, a light flush on her cheeks.

“I wore this dress for you, Bea.” She utters, smiling softly. “It’s why I was late. I wanted to look pretty - for you.” She licks her lips and Bea stares at her, entranced. I wanted to make you stare at me the way I do at you.” Allie continues, a little bashful.

Bea stares open-mouthed. “Y-you do make me stare. You always do.” She says quietly. “I... can’t really compete. You’re so pretty I lose my train of thought.”

Allie smiles widely, looking absolutely delighted. it’s such a lovely sight that Bea’s hands itch with the need to sketch Allie. To take a photo. To make a lasting work of art from the pure beauty of her face.

“Ya don’t need to compete.” Says Allie seriously. “Remember the day we met? At sailing? It took me a million years to notice you were sea sick and, ya know, horrifically- wounded-sick because I was so stuck on your face and your lips and your butt and...” her eyes zero in on Bea’s chest and suddenly Bea finds her breath is short and she wants to press herself against Allie. Wants to wrap her legs around her. She licks her dry lips and stares sloe-eyed at the younger blonde.

“And what?” She husks suddenly dying to hear Allie say the words. But Allie just winks archly at her. 

“Oh, so many other things..“ she says, her voice silky.

“ Bea,” Allie continues, “whether you believe it or not, You’re beautiful. It’s just fact.” 

Bea snorts. “Do you know what fact means?” She argues. 

Allie just winks at her. 

“Course I do. I’ve learnt lots of new facts since meeting ya.” 

She begins listing said facts off on her hands.

“Fact one.” She says “Franky should not be introduced to anyone’s grandmother.” Bea giggles.

“Fact two. Debbie will never stop asking questions.” Bea grins again, loving that Allie knows her daughter well enough to know that. 

“Fact three. And this is the most obvious one.” She leans over and presses a soft kiss to Bea’s lips. “Bea is beautiful.” She says, stroking a hand down the side of Bea’s face before adding “YOU are beautiful.”

“In a hospital gown,” Bea argues, flushed as hell. “with bad hair and no makeup...” 

“...Always.” Says Allie firmly. And it’s said with such vehemence that it makes Bea pause and just stare at Allie. At the beautiful, sleeveless sundress, at her soft golden skin and remembers the softness -almost shyness - in Allie’s voice as she admitted that she’d dressed up for Bea. 

For. Bea.

Bea looks Allie in the eye, reaching out a hand to stroke her soft blonde locks.

“C’mere,” She husks softly.

Allie doesn’t hesitate, fitting herself into Bea’s uninjured side with a relieved exhale. Bea reaches out a shy hand to run over Allie’s bare shoulder and it’s soft and smooth and warm in her grasp. It feels like a miracle.

“Feels good.” Allie murmurs. “You touching me, feels so good.”

“Yeah.” Says Bea. “You always feel amazing.” She says quietly.

Allie presses a kiss to Bea’s bare shoulder and it tingles through her, the feel of Allie. The way her presence softens and warms the room. 

“How are you feeling about the meeting? Are you worrying about that, too, babe?” Allie questions. And the combination of her body, warm in Bea’s arms, her sweet, sincere voice and the word babe coming from her lips makes the worries tumble from Bea.

“I am, yeah. I want badly to come home.... well, to Franky’s. But I don’t want to be a burden to you guys. And I don’t know if it’ll be safe...”

Allie presses distracting kisses to Bea’s cheek, making her smile. “Babe” she says, her voice soft and affectionate. “You aren’t a burden. I literally live for the time I spend with you.”

And then they’re kissing again, and Bea’s mind goes hazy and joyful. Allie is hot and pliant against her, seeming to crave Bea’s touch as much as Bea craves hers. Bea finds her hands softly caressing Allie’s shoulders, unable to resist stroking down her collarbone and neck, She breathes in deep breaths, through her nose as they kiss, aware that the scent of Allie’s perfume is luxuriously present in the air.

When they part, they’re both out of breath.

“God Bea. Your hands!” Says Allie, and there’s an unfamiliar yet deeply appealing gravel to her voice.

“Y-you like my hands.” Says Bea, her heart hammering.

“I love your hands.” Allie says. “I love them on me.”

Bea pulls Allie back toward her without conscious thought, kissing her soundly. They’re both even more breathless when the finally part again. Allie grins at Bea, cuddling into her and stretching her legs out next to Bea’s on the bed. They’re long and beautifully shaped and Bea finds she’s losing her mind again. She can’t help but stroke her hands down Allie’s arms, loving the softness of them. She finds, unexpectedly, that she’s smiling too.

“Feel better?” Allie asks softly.

Bea just smiles, her mind still a hazy, half-formed thing.

“If you want to go home, you can go home.” Says Allie with an appealing certainty. “We would all love that.”

“I don’t want to put any of you in danger. The police...”

It’ll be safe.” Allie promises, and her lips press a soft kiss to Bea’s cheek before she moves back to meet Bea’s eyes, cupping her face between two hands. “I’ve made some phone calls. Arrangements. And you see that suitcase over there?” She geatures to the corner. “I’m not fleeing the country, it’s proof. That you’re safe. That Debbie is. Put it together over the past few days. And then went a little batshit crazy highlighting and tabbing anything I thought would help us. It’s going to be fine, Bea. You’re going to be fine. I wouldn’t let you go if I didn’t know it was safe.”

“I... really don’t know why you did all that for me.” Says Bea. “But thank you.”

Allie leans in, nuzzling her nose warmly against Bea’s. “Between you, me and your saline bag, I like that kind of stuff. Organising things. Labelling them.”

Bea smiles, wondering if there’s anything she could learn about Allie that doesn’t make her more adorable. She doubts it.

“You’re just too cute.” She husks quietly. 

Allie beams. “I’m glad you think so.” She says, pressing her lips against Bea’s. “Now stop worrying. We’ve got this.”

Bea stares at Allie, the word “we’ve” reverberating around her head like like a joyous hallelujah chorus. “You’re... something, Allie Novak” she finally says.

Allie smirks at her. “Something sexy?” She questions.

Yes, Bea thinks. Yesyesyes. So sexy. She avoids eye contact, instead nodding shyly before pulling Allie in by her shirt to bring their lips together.

“Thanks Allie. I trust you.” She murmurs between kisses.

Allie’s smile is shocked, but abundant with beauty.  
————

When it’s time for the meeting, Bea finds she feels a hundred percent calmer. A hundred percent better. That she believes Allie implicitly. Especially when she rolls in her suitcase of paperwork.

The meeting itself is long. It’s a rather large assembly of people, social workers for Debbie and Bea, an abuse social worker, and various doctors. And Allie, of course. And her truckload of paperwork.

Bea is being allowed to go. Released into the care of her friends with a bucketload of pain medication and follow up appointments and physio and what Allie describes to the injury release team as a ‘dedicated security service.’

Bea’ll have to ask her about that later. Is she counting Franky as a guard dog?

When they ask Allie about work she says she’s financially stable and on long term paid leave. 

When they ask her about childcare of Debbie, she says she’ll assume responsibility with Franky and Bridget as backup until Bea is better.

When they ask her about long-term accommodation for Bea for when she’s better, Allie says they’ll sort something out, but that Franky is happy for her to stay there for the foreseeable future. And she has a neatly tabbed, carefully highlighted declaration from Franky, of course. 

She also confirms that Bea’s job will be thrilled to have her back when she’s better. And produces another neatly-tabbed, carefully highlighted cover letter from Bea’s workplace.

Bea doesn’t know what to think. For every question they answer Allie is preternaturally organised, producing a seemingly endless stack of highlighted, colour-tabbed papers. She is freakishly organised. confident and very, very convincing. And for some reason she’s done all this work, accumulated all this paper, tabbed all these files for Bea.

It’s baffling that Allie wants to do this for her. But it also makes her feel warm, safe and cared for. Loved, even. She’s confused and baffled and beyond touched. And really, really wishing she could kiss Allie.

They sign her off. Allie re-loads her truckload of papers into her adorable rolling suitcase and then suddenly, it’s a done deal.

Bea’s going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is based on the song ‘Walk With me’ by The Seekers. I used to listen to them a great deal as a young child and oddly the song has been on my mind today. I think it fits them well.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments. Hearing what you think and like really helps me to progress. I truly appreciate the comments and kudos so endless thanks to all of you.


	15. (Somehow) we’re going somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea leaves hospital and aliens abduct her.
> 
> Except the stuff after ‘and’ is just me being silly ‘cause I I hate writing these🤪

After the drawn-out process of the meeting, Bea finds herself exhaustedly reaching for Allie’s hand, her head a confusing mess.

She’s beyond drained and her body feels heavy and useless. Allie is there, though. And Bea finds the shoulder next to hers, the arm curled around her shoulders an immeasurable comfort.

“I’m sorry.” She keeps saying to Allie. “I dunno why I’m so tired.” Allie shakes her head and smiles the first four times, but feels the need to placate Bea when she hits the fifth apology.

“Don’t worry Bea. It’s the adrenalin, babe.” Says Allie, her voice soft and understanding. “It’s all been building up to the meeting and now it’s finished. I think I’d take a nap too.”

Allie presses a kiss to Bea’s cheek and gets out her phone. “Now give me a sec - I just gotta call Franky and the security detail and we can get you home. “ There’s a lull while Bea processes the words, her brain hazy with questions and an inexplicable tiredness.

“Detail?” questions Bea tiredly. But Allie merely blows her an apologetic kiss, gesturing to her phone. 

Bea sits next to Allie, her body feeling heavier and heavier. She finds herself leaning into Allie, likely uncomfortable given that the younger blonde is cradling a phone against her ear. But Bea is so tired and resting against Allie is incredibly soothing.

Allie seems to take it in her stride. shifting her phone to the other side of her face and coaxing Bea’s head down to lie against her warm shoulder. Bea rests her head against Allie’s warm, fragrant neck and closes her eyes, inhaling her sweet smell.

“You smell nice.” She mutters, half asleep.

Somehow she can feel Allie smiling against her.

——-

“Bea?”

Bea ignores the voice, cuddling further into the soft warmth.

A hand gently smooths Bea’s hair, strokes softly at her cheek, and then warm lips press a kiss to her nose. 

“Bea?” Another tingling kiss, to her cheek this time.

“Mmmm?” Bea hums, her hands reaching blindly for Allie’s face. She’s so tired still. Wherever it is that she has laid her head feels so warm, smells so gorgeous.

“Bea? Babe, I’m sorry but you have to get up. Franky’s ready. Team’s ready, We have to go.”

Bea opens her eyes, surprised to find she’s no longer sitting, but instead lying prone, her head resting across Allie’s lap on a couch. She darts upward, flushing, feeling the familiar pull of her stomach muscles as the forgotten wound contracts, she hisses, stills and lets Allie lower her to a more comfortable position.

She’s in some kind of private waiting room, apparently treating Allie like a freaking mattress.

“Sorry.” She says, flustered. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

Allie smiles at her. But there’s something to the smile that’s hard to explain. It draws Bea in. “I’m really not complaining Bea. Sleep with me anytime.”

Though Allie’s words are gentle with only a hint of teasing, heat ripples through Bea at the double meaning, and she finds that despite her lingering tiredness there’s nothing she’d love so much. She knows she is blushing head to foot, but embarrassment seems to be taking second fiddle to something else. It’s not quite something she can put into words, but it loiters warmly, flickering awareness alive within her.

“Anyway,” Says Allie, “as much as I’m enjoying making you turn fifty shades of red and totally want me, we gotta go. Franky’s waiting.”

Wordless and flushed, Bea hides her reddened face in Allie’s shoulder, her mind stuck always and forever on Allie’s perfect pink lips saying “totally want me.”

“You want me too.” She mutters, shocked at her own words. She’s not even sure that Allie heard them, given that her shoulder is a surprisingly effective sound barrier.

When she finally retreats from Allie’s shoulder, the first thing she sees is the younger blonde’s beautiful smile. Even though Bea’s horribly embarrassed, she finds herself staring. Allie is smiling that arch, confident smile. She looks like a dream. And she’s so close.

A kiss just, sort of.. happens. And that merges into another and another. It makes everything hazy with heat and joy, and Bea can feel Allie smiling against her lips. When they part again, Bea feels it like loss until she catches sight of the affection in Allie’s beautiful eyes. 

“Course I want you.” Allie says. “Have you seen you? Talked to you? I bet I want you even more than you want me.”

Not true, Bea thinks. But despite her flaming red cheeks she’s enjoying the banter. So aloud she merely says; “Didn’t know it was a contest.”

Allie raises her eyebrows. “Well if it wasn’t before it fucking is now.” She presses another kiss to Bea’s lips and mumbles against them “to be continued later, Bea-utiful.”

And yet, mercifully, the kisses continue. Bea finds herself helplessly smiling into Allie’s lips. For years she didn’t really get wanting to be close to someone, let alone kissing them. But now her lips and Allie’s lips together - it’s irresistible.

When they part, they’re both smiling at each-other.

There’s a firm knock on the door and they both turn toward it as it opens, their hands still entwined. Mr Jackson, one of the security guards appears. Bea doesn’t know him all that well and it’s with an embarrassed flush that she drops Allie’s hand. But the smile on her face lingers. And even though she can’t see Allie, somehow she knows she’s smiling too.

“Hi Mr Jackson.” She says, flushing again when she’s realises Allie has uttered the same greeting at the same time.

“Hi Miss Novak, Ms Bea. Now you’re talking in unison, then? Remind me to ovoid telling Miss Doyle that or I’ll never hear the end of it.

Bea laughs. Clearly he already has Franky sussed. “Thanks Mr Jackson. Lifesaver.”

“Yeah. Good call, Mr Jackson.” Says Allie. “I love the beetroot red look on Bea but she’s strangely averse to it.”

Bea giggles, unable to resist turning and looking at Allie as her cheeks predictably redden. She reddens even more when Allie winks at her. 

Time for a change of topic.

“Aren’t we supposed to be leaving?” Bea says.

“Right you are Ms Bea. Ready to make a break for it?” He asks.

“It’s Bea, Mr Jackson. Not Ms Bea.” She reminds him. “ And yeah. Can’t wait!”

He shrugs at her. “If I’m Mr Jackson, then you’ve gotta be Ms something.” He says. “And Allie here says that you’re not terribly fond of your surname. So...Ms Bea it is.”

Bea turns to Allie, mouthing her thanks and wondering how she knew that, what Bea did that gave her that sense. It’s typical Allie, done with nothing but thoughtfulness. 

Bea’s not sure when she stopped feeling like she had her own identity, but the Smith at the end of her name definitely muddied her view of herself. 

She remembers her wedding night, the hardness of the still-new bump that was Debbie growing inside her. She’d been four months pregnant at the time and still feeling round-the-clock sick despite being well past her first trimester.

Harry was blind drunk. Nipping savagely at her mouth and ripping away her clothes as she shrank back from him, pleading him to let her be.

She still remembers him ramming into her. His anger at her crying and begging came suddenly, and he smacked her across the face until she fell into a terrified silence.

“Fucks sake be quiet! You’re my wife. Now do your fucking job Mrs Smith.”

Bea froze, feeling the hot tears as they wobbled and jolted their way down her face with every violent slam of Harry’s body against her own. 

Mrs Smith. She hates the name now. Loathes it. And somehow Allie knows. Somehow Allie, in typical Allie fashion, knew without being told how to make things better.

“Bea?” Allie’s soft voice brings Bea back to the present and she can’t help but smile at Allie, her face slack with relief to be here with her. 

With gentility that Bea’s never really seen before, never really known was in existence, Allie helps her to her feet and into the wheelchair that hospital policy dictates she leave in. Despite Allie’s declaration of lateness, and Mr Jackson’s presence nearby, Allie still finds the time to lean down, cupping Bea’s cheeks between her warm hands and kissing her softly on the lips.

“Happy leaving day, Bea.” She says, her smile warm and affectionate. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bea smiles up at Allie, dazzled by her lips and her blue eyes. By the scent of vanilla that clings to her. 

By her good heart. 

She’s starting to realise that everything Allie does dazzles her. Her easy promises and unthinking kindnesses. Her flirty smile. Her earnest words. 

“Thanks Allie.” She husks, wishing she could say more.

She loves the things Allie does for her, both big and small. And every time she remembers the highlighted, colour-tabbed freaking novel that Allie put together on her behalf she feels warmed from within. Like she wants to wrap her whole self around Allie and never, ever let go.

And then there’s the way Allie cares for Deb, takes her seriously, answers her questions and considers her ideas. Has always, unquestioningly since that first bewildering day on the boat. 

But like so much of what she wants to say to Allie, there aren’t quite words within her reach.

So she keeps sitting in stunned, grateful silence until Mr Jackson gestures to Allie to begin wheeling her toward the back exit.

—-

When they leave the hospital, Bea goes from dazed to wide awake in seconds.

It starts with the exit sign. It flickers noisily and she’s twitches awake.

A car horn toots as Allie is helping her into the car and she startles, practically strangling Allie’s hand in hers. Allie immediately pulls Bea against her, stroking her hair. But Bea can’t hear her, her soothing voice drowns out amidst the hurtling drumbeat of Bea’s traitorous heart.

Mr Jackson’s voice echoes around them. “Ms Bea, are you okay?” he says. “Ms Bea?

She’s tangentially aware of Allie’s voice and then he’s gone. 

As they back out of the hospital car-park an ambulance screeches by and Bea shrinks as far into Allie as she can. Dread fills her and makes her feel lost and alone, too thrown to even notice that she’s burying her head in Allie’s shoulder. They come to a sudden stop on the motorway and she can’t stop shaking, tears welling in her eyes. A motorcycle hurtles past their car as they turn into her street and she cowers against Allie, shivering uncontrollably.

It should feel ridiculous. She knows motorcycles. She used to freaking ride a motorcycle. And now the very sound of one is making her into a flinching, weeping weirdo. 

Allie remains warmly at her side. Stroking Bea’s hair, pressing kisses to her cheeks and running her hands comfortingly up and down her arms. She whispers words that Bea knows are warm and kind, even though she’s too far gone to make sense of them. But her presence, her warmth is the small thread that gets Bea through the drive home.

It isn’t until they come to a stop home that she sees that Franky was driving. And from her anxious, white face and lack of offensive commentary, she guesses that what Franky just saw wasn’t a pretty picture.

Shame gnaws at her insides. She’s been through surgery and beating after beating and it’s someone laying on their car horn a little too loud that sends her over the edge.

She’s a trembling, crying shuddering mess when they get out of the car, twitching at the brightness of the light and the loudness of an overhead plane as Franky and Allie each put an arm around her, walking her gently toward the house.

——  
Franky detaches herself from Bea to open the door of her house,and Allie leads her carefully over to the couch, lowering Bea’s head into her lap and stroking her hair softly.

Once Franky closes the door, the hush of the room and Allie’s warm fingers stroking at her hair slowly soothe her.

It’s better inside. Quieter. And the hurtling mess of anxiety that plagued her outside is less, now. Allie dries her tears and wipes her nose, while Bea lays there.

It takes a long time for embarrassment to dawn, but when it finally does hit her she feels deeply shamed by what just happened. She can’t figure out why the fuck it did.

Franky sits down opposite them, and Bea is half-expecting to be teased about being cuddled up on Allie’s lap but Franky just eyes bore into Bea with concern. 

“You okay, Red? You gave me a fright.” She looks over at Allie. “Us a fright.” She corrects.

Bea looks up at Allie’s concerned, beautiful face before looking back over at Franky. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck that was.”

“Hey Red, it’s okay. Just glad you’re okay, y’know.” Says Franky. 

Allie’s voice, when she speaks, is soft and incredibly warm. Bea can’t help but look up at her, can’t help but feel calmer.

“Babe, it’s okay. You’ve been at the hospital for months. And even though it drove you nuts it was.... safe. Routine.”

She pauses, swallowing air and possibly words. And Bea wonders what it is that she’s thinking about saying. For a time Allie remains silent, her hands carefully stroke Bea’s shoulders.

“You’ve been through a lot, Bea.” She finally says “You’re reacting. It’s okay to react.”

Bea shakes her head, vehemence in her voice. “No! There’s reacting and then there’s whatever the fuck I did. I fucking lost it.”

“And then you came inside and totallly fucking found it.” Says Allie gently.

“Give yourself some credit.” Allie continues “You’re calm now. Despite being in pain all the damn time because of your asshole ex, despite that months-long stay in hospital...”

“Not to mention a hot new girlfriend...” interjects Franky. “Super stressful, deciding which sappy face to make at her next.”

Allie picks up a cushion from the other end of the couch and lounches it in Franky’s general direction.

“Hot new girlfriend requests you go find your own hot girlfriend so I can talk to my own, super-hot girlfriend without being bugged by yours truly.” Says Allie.

Bea finds herself snorting. But something about Allie’s run-on sentence does send Franky away after some teasing comments. Once she’s sloped off, smirking, Bea turns to talk to Allie. 

“I’m sorry.” She says. ”I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Allie strokes Bea’s hair, shrugging. 

“It’s okay. Of course it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. But we have nothing but time to work through this.” Says Allie. Her voice is light and soothing and Bea finds that she feels calmer already.

“In the meantime...” Allie smirks, her hands travelling down to stroke at Bea’s arms and back “I’m happy to offer my cuddling services. No charge for you, Bea-utiful one.”

“Back just in time, I see.” Says Franky, trailing Bridget. “What’s this I hear about cuddling services?” 

Bea blushes. Allie laughs. Bridget smiles. Franky wolf-whistles.

And it all feels okay again, for now.

—-  
Franky and Bridget disappear off, muttering about making some phone calls.

Allie disappears to the kitchen to make some sandwiches, continuing to talk to Bea about Debbie’s new fascination with black holes as she does. When she re-emerges from the kitchen mere minutes later, she’s holding a plate of overly thick sandwiches. They’re ninety percent filling, over-burdened with ham, cheese, tomato and lettuce.

Allie just sits next to Bea smirking as Bea struggles on eat the colossal sandwich.

The fillings falls out everywhere and Bea can feel Allie suppressing giggles. Finally, she puts the sandwich down.

“My God, Allie. Is there anything left in the kitchen or did you put it all in this sandwich.”

“Nah. The cupboard is bare. It’s all in the sandwich.” Allie says grinning. “But seriously, Bea. You’re tiny. We need to fatten you up.” 

Bea had picked up the sandwich again at Allie’s cupboard comment, but her hold loosens on the sandwich, and she loses more filling  
as she eyes Allie’s slender form. “Says you,” she comments. “You were slender when we met. But you’re even skinnier now.” 

Allie’s hand comes up to cup Bea’s cheek, her smile more than a little teasing. “I’m sorry, my-“ she clears her throat meaningfully “my girlfriend,” she says, carefully enunciating the word girlfriend “has been in hospital. I got distracted.”

Bea flushes bright red, an affectionate smile on her face.

“Oy guys,” a distinctive voice says “stop being fucking disgusting.”

Bea looks up to see Franky is back in the room.

“I thought we’d got off too lightly today.” Says Allie, sighing. “Come on Doyle, do ya worst.”

“Eh. Time is to short to comment on the immediate humpability of you two.”

“Bea blushes muttering an expletive at Franky but Allie just smirks. “Serious Franky? You made up a word for us? I’m touched!”

“Not how you’d like to be touched though, aye Blondie.” Franky snarks. Bea drops her head into her hands and groans.

“Fuck off Franky.” She mutters. She jumps a little at the warm weight of Allie hand smoothing down her back, calming her. 

“It’s Bea.” She’s finally says. “She’s my dream girl. If she does nothing more than hold my hand for the next eleven hundred years I’ll be happy.” 

Bea reaches for Allie’s hand and squeezes it gratefully, her heart filling with affection for her.

“Anyway lesbos. I just came to tell you that Bridget’s gone to get Deb. She should be back from school in twenty minutes or so.”

Bea drags herself upward, letting go of Allie’s hand for long enough to run her fingers through her hair.

“Do I look.... I dunno? Okay to see her?” She says, aware of her latent injuries, her tear streaked face, her tired eyes.

Allie smiles. “Bea. You look like her mum. she’s gonna be nothing thrilled.” She says.

Bea smiles at her, hoping desperately that she’s right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless thanks to all of those who commented. It really does and did mean the world to me.
> 
> Sorry this has been so long coming. Life stuff all happened at once - moved countries, bereavements, job complications, mysterious, new allergies... my life lately has been a bit annoying but thankfully it seems to now be resolving itself. 
> 
> This chapter took too long! It was half-finished and totally blocking me for the longest time. I’m hoping to going to update my other fic in the next few days as well. Just need to work out some inconsistencies. 
> 
> Title is from a Vangelis song called ‘Somehow I’ll find my way home’ and for once is not from a musical. 
> 
> Please comment if you can. I live for them!


	16. Is it all just too immense (for you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea gets to see her daughter again. Properly. It's...challenging
> 
> Bea and Allie talk. It's...challenging
> 
> Sorry guys, drama llama warning...

Bea hears the second that Bridget and Debbie get in, and even though she’s been significantly injured for weeks now, she forgets it all and surges to her feet, huffing out a swear word at the way her healing scars pull tightly and painfully. She folds at the waist, gasping in agony. Why the fuck can’t she remember a stupidly basic thing like being hurt?

Allie is at her side immediately, her face so sympathetic that it pacifies the irritation Bea feels about forgetting her injuries for the seventeen millionth time. As the thumps of Bea’s daughter’s footfalls running down the long corridor resonate ever closer, Allie helps Bea back onto the couch, lowering her downwards carefully, so that she’s sitting back, partially reclined. She then perches herself on the leg of Bea’s chair just as Debbie bursts into the room.

“Mumma!” she crows joyfully, any gentility forgotten in her sheer excitement. She hurls herself in her mother’s direction, and it’s only Allie appearing in front of the excited child and redirecting her that stops her landing next to Bea, rather than on top of her. Something about the motion must remind Debbie that she’s supposed to be treating her mother carefully because she backs up suddenly, her features frozen with uncertainty. Eventually, Debbie steps forward, so that she stands in front of her mother.

For a second, Bea just takes Debbie in. Her wiry little body with it’s stick-skinny arms and legs, the way she bounces on the balls of her feet like a racehorse ready to burst forth; but can’t seem to convince herself to move. The nervous, uncertain half smile, springing forth from beneath chaotic curls.

She sees too late that her daughter’s uncertainty has given way to fright, sees her daughter’s eyes well with tears. Immediately, instinctively, Bea reaches for Debbie, but the little girl darts backwards out of her mother’s grasp. Bea’s whole face drops, and her already pale complexion seems to lose even more colour. 

Watching on, Allie feels a fierce surge of regret at the agony she sees on Bea’s face. She instantly regrets everything she just did, wondering if she should have just let Debbie jump on her mother. But Bea is still just pieces hanging together right now. And never is that clearer than the few seconds before Debbie came barrelling into the room, when Allie saw Bea’s pain engulf her once more. She wonders if she should take Debbie into her arms. If that would help. But she knows she isn't a substitute for Bea - because no one could be. 

But in front of her, separated by only a half meter, are a mother and child who have yearned to be in the same space for months. Allie finds she has no words to offer, nothing to make anything better. And the silence grows.

At last, Bea speaks, her voice soothing and soft. A mother’s voice. She reaches out her hands to Debbie. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry, my girl. Come here, Deb.” she says. She even manages to smile.

But Debbie just stands there, shaking with silent tears. They all seem to watch the moment, paralysed, as Debbie’s tears chart crooked tracks down her face. In the corner of her eye, Allie can see Franky rise to her feet, but Bridget must stop her, because she remains, upright, but frozen. Allie, still perched at Bea’s side, wonders again how to help. She hears Bea’s voice, a soothing husk in the suddenly fraught room.

“I’m okay, really, Deb. Come here.”

Debbie looks scared, her teeth savaging her lower lip in a gesture so reminiscent of her mother’s that Allie wants to hug her tightly and protect her from all the bad things in life. But slowly, the little girl steps forward. Her hands coming to rest on her mother’s cheeks. Watching her, Allie knows, somehow, that Debbie’s next question is going to hurt like hell.

She’s right.

“I don’ know where to touch you mumma.” Debbie says, all pie-plate eyes and trembling voice. “Where didn’t dad try to kill y-you? She says, trembling. 

Bea goes to hug Debbie, to comfort her, but her daughter catches her hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you, mumma.” she insists and Bea wants to burst into tears but knows she must not. She waits for Debbie to release her hands but she holds onto them fast, and Bea knows better than to try and force a hug.

“What won’t hurt, mumma?” Debbie says again, her voice both fearful and plaintive. Her hands still holding onto her mother’s. Protecting her.

Bea’s face drops, the smile she was holding firmly onto to soothe her daughter has long since wilted away. She can't find a single word to answer her daughter. But of course she must say something.

Why the fuck can’t she talk? Her daughter needs her and she’s just…. 

Useless.

When Allie speaks, her voice is one of determined calm “Lean into her side, Deb.” she says helpfully. “That’ll be fine, right Bea?”

Bea can only nod. But Debbie thankfully takes it as gospel and cautiously sits herself down next to her mother. She looks panicked in Bea’s presence and it’s that more than anything that forces Bea into action. She smiles fondly at her daughter - her brave beautiful little girl. And Debbie smiles tremulously back.

“I’m okay sweetheart - I’m getting so much better.” she says.

“But you were hurt really badly, mumma!” says Debbie insistantly. 

Bea bites her lip. She wants to be honest. But she doesn't want to put too much on Debbie. She’s already been through so much.

“I did get hurt, Debbie. That’s why I’m not going home to your Dad anymore. That makes me safe.” she says.

Thankfully Debbie does not ask what Bea will do if Harry comes back. Bea has no answer, except the hairs that rise on the back of her neck. Harry needs to be a full stop now. He needs to be in the past.

Debbie has already seen far more than she should have.

She looks up at her friends, at Allie. She’s ready to ask for them to give her a few minutes alone with her daughter when she realises they’re already retreating. As Allie leaves, her hand grasps Bea’s briefly, and Bea childishly wants to cling on, wants Allie to stay by her side forever and ever. 

She lets her leave.

When they’ve departed, she presses kiss after kiss to her little girl’s face, gently pulling Debbie to sit on her lap. The motion of the action itself hurts like hell, squeezing and stretching muscles that are still healing. But once Debbie’s in place it’s not too bad comfort wise and her scarred body gets some reprieve. Almost immediately, the little girl’s hands start playing with her mother’s hair, and Bea finds herself smiling with relief at the familiar action. 

She hugs Debbie tightly, ignoring the way her muscles complain in favour of giving her daughter the hug that they both desperately need. It is only then that she finally exhales. She has her little girl in her arms. It is such a joy to have Debbie’s little hands fiddling with her hair, Debbie’s soft breaths warming the side of her face.

“I’m so sorry Debbie.” she says. “I know this has been hard and you’ve been such a good girl throughout. Did it scare you, seeing me today?” 

Perplexingly, Debbie shakes her head and then nods, cuddling into Bea in the artless, automatic way she always has. Bea grits her teeth to stop herself crying out as Debbie accidentally nudges at a muscle in her abdomen. She must bear this, so she will bear it. Debbie so badly needs this.

She tousles Debbie’s hair, stroking a gentle hand down her soft cheek before trying to figure out what Debbie is meaning.

“What’s that mean, little lady?” she asks. “A nod and a shake together is confusing for your Mumma.”

Debbie licks her lips, her eyes moving over her mother with fear. “I did think you were okay when I was with you at the hospital,” she says. Debbie enunciates the word ‘hospital’ very carefully, and Bea has a moment of panicked awe at her daughter’s ever-growing vocabulary. She wonders who taught her how to say it so perfectly. Wonders if it’s okay that her daughter probably knows a bunch more medical words than any five year old should ever know.

It’s all her fault that Debbie knows those words. 

Her heart races and she hopes desperately that Debbie can’t tell. She’s been so absent, so out of it. And still she has so little control over what Debbie takes in. What she must have taken in for years.

And then there’s where Bea is now. She’s staying with her friend; no home to go to. She’s….somehow dating a woman that she cares for and trusts, but what does she really know about her, about being gay, About anything? She doesn’t even know her own medication schedule, for chrissakes. She’s been too out of it to know the first thing about her recovery. 

There’s so little in her life that she seems to have any say in.

“I mean,” says Debbie, and Bea does her best to put aside her thumping heart and sweating body, instead giving Debbie all of her attention. The little girl is furrowing her brow in the familiarly adorable way she does when she’s struggling to articulate herself. 

At least that’s the same. 

”I was thinking you were better at the hospital. You gave good Mumma hugs again at the hospital.” Debbie says, burrowing her head against Bea’s side. It hurts and Bea hopes that Debbie can’t feel the way her abdominal muscles reactively clench, the rapid intake of her breath. Instead she wipes away the beads of sweat from her lip and presses a kiss to Debbie’s forehead.

But it’s covered in sweat again before she even kisses Debbie. It’s like there is no way she can comfort her child, without exposing that right now, everything hurts. But she wipes her upper lip and brow again, and perserveres.

“So what scared you, Deb?” she asks. “How’d we go from ‘good Mumma hugs’ to you getting scared?”

”School.” says Debbie shortly. Shifting closer into the arm that Bea has cuddled around her, she holds out her hand for her mothers free one. Bea gives it to her willingly, waiting patiently while Debbie weaves their fingers together.

“School?” Bea returns, squeezing Debbie’s hand gently. She’s doing her best to keep her voice light and neutral, even as her mind races ahead. She wonders who talked, what filtered down. How the hell the nosy school community that she has taken great pains to avoid somehow got wind of what happened.

“Tom B said today you got nearly deaded ‘cause of Daddy.” says Debbie, her voice oddly calm. Every bit of sweat on Bea suddenly turns to cold, and a violent sort of anguish clenches at her, more painful than anything Harry could ever do to her. She looks at her daughter, but Debbie is looking at their clasped hands, avoiding her gaze.

“Debbie, my love” she says softly, squeezing her daughter’s hand in hers. “Baby, I’m okay..I’m going to be all better soon. I’m so sorry what Tom B said. He got told…” she pauses, trying to find syllables that aren’t curse words. “He got told the wrong thing.” she says, finally.

By some gossiping asshole.

Debbie stills briefly in her mother’s arms, squeezing at her Bea’s knuckles and tracing the lines of her fingers. And then finally, blessedly, she looks at Bea. Brown eyes meet brown, and Immediately Debbie’s eyes fill with tears, her breath surging forth in ragged little bursts. She burrows into her mother’s neck, her voice rough and sad. “I was so scared, Mumma.” she says. 

Bea can feel herself welling up too, but she does her best to at least sound soothing, running her hands up and down her little girl’s back. “Oh sweetheart, Tom B was just… muddled. I’m going to be okay. And it’s partly because you were a brave girl and told the ambulance I was hurting. “ she feels tears escaping from her eyes, but ignores them in favour of cuddling her little girl closer. “ My brave girl.” she says, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s head. And though Debbie bursts into a fresh torrent of tears at her mother’s words, Bea thinks that maybe they help.

She hopes they do, at least.

\--------------------------------  
Several hours later, after Debbie has been fed and Bea has put her to bed, Allie comes into the room she’s staying in for a chat.

Allie presses a light kiss to Bea’s cheek, seemingly aware of how fatigued she must feel. Somehow, it wakens Bea, warming her cheekbone and making her forget the dark knot of fear and failure that's discolouring everything right now. She reaches out automatically for Allie’s hand, and it soothes her, just to hold Allie’s soft hand in hers. She looks into Allie’s eyes, staring at the impossible blue until she feels calmer.

“Debbie seemed better at dinner.” Allie comments softly.

Bea nods. “No thanks to whomever the fuck told Tom Belter about what happened to me. I don’t think his parents are law enforcement or medical staff so I haven't a clue where he got it from.”

Allie shrugs. “ Don’t know. All that I know about Tom B is that he picks his own nose and eats it.” says Allie nonchalantly. 

Bea snorts, raising an eyebrow at her but Allie just shrugs. “Debbie’s mentioned him before.” she says. “I think she’s in his table group at school now?”

Bea retreats a little at Allie’s words, because she didn't know Tom B is in her daughter’s table group, and Alie did.

Another thing she doesn’t know anything about. Another thing she has no control over.

What kind of mother is she?

Allie squeezing her hand gently brings her back to herself.

“You okay, Beautiful?” she asks. “Are you tired? Or just too much to think about.” 

Bea shrugs, unable to stop herself smiling foolishly at Allie’s compliment. It came from nowhere, it isn't because she wants anything, and it’s just… a lovely thing to hear. Somehow the word, along with Allie’s worried blue eyes manages to pull her brain out of torture mode, at least temporarily. “Just ...stuff.” she says.

Allie doesn’t look convinced. “You look like Debbie when she’s nervous, y’know.” she finally says, gesturing at Bea’s lip “You both knaw at them.” she explains.

Bea smiles at her. It just flows out. Because it’s new and nice, how much Allie sees. How much she knows.

“Is there anything Debbie that you haven't noticed?” she asks.

Allie nods. grinning. “Hell to the yes. “Still not up on my children’s book characters. I need to find out who the fuck Ramona Quimby is before she realises I’m faking my way through her rambles about her or she’s going to think I’m THE WORST.”

Bea laughs. “Younger child in an American book series about sisters. Has an older sister named Bezus. Very determined and a bit of a drama queen.” 

“So...Not dissimilar to Debbie.” Allie says, winking at her. 

Bea laughs, feeling the familiar warm tickle that accompanies Allie winking at her making it’s way everywhere. For a minute, it’s all okay. “I read her the first six chapters of ‘Ramona the Pest’ which is the first book before Harry…. You know.”

Allie’s hand squeezes Bea’s one gently, before moving over to her wrist to stroke softly at the inner skin of her palms. “I know.” she says softly. “But you’re safe now, Bea.” We wouldn't let anything happen to you.”

Bea withdraws her hand from Allie’s grasp, smiling, but not really meaning it. For some reason Allie’s words don’t help. Because Harry won’t stay in jail forever. And that makes Bea nothing but a burden. Someone who had to be taken in by friends because she couldn’t take care of herself. 

Let alone her daughter.

Bea clears her throat uncertainly, her mind full of her own uselessness and Harry’s terrifying strength. “I do worry about Harry getting released...coming and finding us - hurting you all.” she says softly. He knows where Franky lives. And when he’s angry he’s…” she shakes her head, fear getting it’s grasp on her all too quickly.

“He’s...frightening.” she says, and even as the words pour out of her she feels doomed by them. That there’s this man out there that feels he has every right to kill her.

And anyone who gets in his way.

Allie turns to face her on the couch. She reaches out and takes Bea’s other hand and holds them both. Immediately Bea feels distracted by the warmth of it, the softness of it, the zigzag lines Allie draws across her fingers.

“There are security guards, still.” she says softly. “Four of them. They all have impressive resumes.You're safe here, Bea.”

“Wow,” says Bea. “I didn't know...thought they were a hospital thing, not a police thing.”

She’s relieved in one way. But it also makes her feel useless. Like the expectation is that she’s not strong enough on her own.

Allie squeezes Bea’s hand. “They’re neither.” she says lightly. “I hired them.”

Bea immediately drops Allie’s hands, moving backwards on the couch in shock. Her eyes are wide at first, and scared. And then she just looks furious.

When she speaks, her voice is ice-edged and the space gapes open between them.

“You… what?” she says and the shock of having yet another blanket pulled out from beneath her feet makes her voice hard.

Allie looks surprised at Bea’s reaction. She starts to speak and stops again, her mouth hanging half-open with uncertainty.

“I paid for the security. The Police wouldn’t...and I wanted you to b-be safe.”

Bea laughs, but there’s no real humour in it. “So what…you thought you’d just do that for me. Really drive home what a failure I am by making me your fucking charity case, now?”

Allie looks shocked. “No, Bea. Never. I just thought anything that would keep you safe was good. And I have the money to spare so....”

“Good for you.” interrupts Bea icily. “I saved up for nine months to take Debbie on your stupid fucking boat, hiding tips under my mattress and getting the bash for not bringing enough money home and now without even fucking consulting me you just spent up large on me - money theres no fucking way I can ever pay you back.”

When Allie speaks again she sounds stricken, but Bea keeps her eyes averted; won’t look at her. “Bea,” she says. “Bea, I’m so sorry. I don’t want it back. I didn't know that this would upset you. I -” she reaches out her hand for Bea’s but Bea shakes it off.

“Just get out, Allie.” she says, trying desperately not to cry.

“Bea.” Allie’s voice is soft and tremulous. “I’m really sorr-”

“GET OUT!” roars Bea, and it’s only as she catches sight of Allie’s tear-stained face and wobbling jaw that she begins to tremble uncontrollably, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.

But by then Allie has already left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the kindness and support people have shown me in the light of my liberal approach to 'updating soon'. Your comments from the last chapter meant the absolute sun, moon and stars to me. You are all wonderful. 
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I moved back home to go through a visa process for a new job and then moved countries to where I am now. The time difference between the two countries is....daunting. And thus, I was tired. Or wide awake at 3am in the morning dancing to an endless stream of songs from musicals. One of those, for sure.
> 
> I know, I know, this one's a stinker. But Bea's been through a lot, ceded a lot of control. She needs some coping strategies for the awfulness her life has been, and the difficult position she now finds herself in. Our girl will get better. But healing from abusive humans is a process. 
> 
> Song is from 'It's not the same moon' from Sting's musical The Last Ship which I absolutely adore and which is at least a quarter responsible for me finishing this chapter, with the other three quarters being all you lovely readers!
> 
> I think I've babbled enough now.


End file.
